RQYAL  AMERICANS 


M ART  H ALLOCF^FOOTE 


' 


J)all0dt  Joote 


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HOUGHTON   MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 


THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 


THE  ROYAL 
AMERICANS 

BY 

MARY  HALLOCK  FOOTE 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

•£be  flrticrsiDc 

1910 


COPYRIGHT,   IpIO,  BY   MARY  HALLOCK  FOOTK 
ALL   RIGHTS  RESERVED 


Published  April  IQIO 


CONTENTS 


BOOK  I 
A  DEBT  TO  THE  ENEMY 1 

BOOK   II 
THE  GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT 53 

BOOK   III 
CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY 119 

BOOK   IV 
THE  POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS 207 

BOOK   V 
THE  WINE  IS  DRUNK ............  2G9 

BOOK  VI 
MEN  OF  THE  GRANTS 291 

BOOK   VII 

"  THE  LIGHT  LIES  ON  THE  FARTHER  HILLS  "  .  361 


Mi891i 


BOOK  I 

A  DEBT  TO  THE  ENEMY 


THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS-,:. 


CHAPTER  L     ?;..•..::' 

AT  Fort  Ontario,  owing  to  the  sojourn  there  of  a  young 
English  lady,  wife  of  an  officer  of  the  Regular  troops 
attached  to  the  garrison,  a  new-born  infant  was  added  to 
the  impedimenta  of  war,  on  a  certain  anxious  night  of 
midsummer,  1756. 

Concerning  this  date,  colonial  history  says  that  at  mid 
night  of  August  the  twelfth,  Montcalm,  having  closed  the 
harbor  and  cut  off  relief  by  land,  opened  his  trenches  on 
the  little  log-walled  fort,  first  to  fall  of  the  British  out 
posts  at  the  mouth  of  the  Oswego. 

If  the  subaltern's  baby  had  been  a  royal  heir,  expected 
by  a  nation,  no  more  drums  would  have  rolled  or  soldiers 
mustered  or  cannon  noised  its  arrival.  Indeed,  the  wise 
ones  said  that  event  had  been  measurably  hastened  by 
the  summons  of  the  enemy's  guns.  But  Lieutenant  Yelver- 
ton  remarked  that  his  prompt  little  daughter  evidently 
knew  she  had  no  time  for  parleying  with  existence,  if  she 
would  be  born  under  her  country's  flag  before  it  struck 
to  the  French. 

As  love  had  fetched  her  there,  so  love  was  waiting  with 
both  hands  to  cherish  her  first  needs.  None  of  those  unnatu 
ral  sounds  of  the  night  assailed  the  flower-soft  ears  pressed 
to  the  silky  head  in  its  swan-skin  coverings.  But  the  mother 
lay  and  listened  to  the  pounding  of  the  guns,  and  watched 


THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 


the  shapes  of  men  in  the  torchlight  rushing  past  her  win 
dow,  and  forbore  to  ask  for  the  one  she  wanted,  —  not  to 
divide  a  king's  officer  from  his  duty  when  it  needed  him 
raotft.  It  had  been  .one  of  her  resolves  never  to  hamper 
Kim  by  heY  jSresenW  there,  more  than  nature's  necessities 


Her  own*  work*  "was-  done  and  well  done,  they  assured 
her.  (Who  "  they  "  might  have  been,  in  a  place  like  that, 
we  can  only  imagine  !)  Joanna  Gourlie,  her  worthy  Scotch 
maid,  said  that  "  seeven  pund  an'  a  bittie  for  a  female 
was  nane  sae  ill."  Had  it  been  a  man-child  more  would 
naturally  have  been  expected.  So,  the  mother  might  listen 
and  wait,  and  rest  if  she  could.  It  was  not  in  his  power  who 
had  brought  her  there  to  give  her  rest,  now  —  not  if  her 
life  depended  on  it.  There  could  be  no  truce  from  those 
shattering  guns,  while  powder  and  ball  were  left  to  put  in 
them. 

But  by  sunset  of  the  following  day,  the  silence  came 
which  meant  surrender.  The  lady  had  her  rest.  From  Fort 
Oswego  brave  Colonel  Mercer  —  who  had  but  one  day  more 
to  live  —  signaled  Ontario's  garrison  to  spike  its  empty 
cannon  and  retire  across  the  river  into  the  shelter  of  his 
own  walls. 

This  movement  was  performed  after  dark,  in  great  silence 
and  secrecy.  "  Not  a  man  was  lost,"  —  only,  the  young 
mother  had  died  in  her  litter  as  they  lifted  her  out  of  the 
bateau. 

We  leave  it  to  the  period  to  account  for  delicate  English 
dames  in  such  places  on  the  eve  of  a  great  war  in  which 
savages  were  the  fearful  weapon  used  on  both  sides.  There 
were  an  hundred  and  twenty  of  the  "  gentle  ones,"  as  Deer- 


A   DEBT  TO   THE   ENEMY 


slayer  calls  them  (and  doubtless  some  were  gentle),  among 
the  prisoners,  when  Oswego  surrendered,  two  days  later, 
to  Montcalm. 

This  count  included  the  women  of  both  garrisons  and 
perhaps  children,  among  them  the  babe  of  Lieutenant 
Yelverton  in  Joanna's  faithful  arms.  The  mother  —  where 
they  buried  her,  and  how,  who  knows  ?  She  left  her  spirit, 
her  capacity  for  life  and  love,  and  her  blood  of  the  ancient 
franklins,  to  this  child  of  the  Western  Wilderness. 

Beautiful  the  New  World  clothed  in  the  light  of  Eden 
must  have  dawned  on  these  adventurous  children  who  took 
such  proud  risks  for  the  sake  of  being  together !  But  their 
happiness  was  short,  and  for  one  at  least  it  may  have  been 
hurt  a  little  —  since  she  had  married  her  lover  under  her 
father's  displeasure  and  run  away  with  him  to  America. 
Those  extraordinary,  willful  old  fathers  were  beloved,  it 
seems.  They  were  alive  at  all  events,  and  life  and  strong 
wills  and  huge  affections  prone  to  anger  are  apt  to  go  to 
gether  in  this  world.  And  when  her  child  was  born  in  the 
heat  of  that  August  night,  in  a  log  hut  shaken  by  cannon, 
did  the  young  mother,  as  she  drifted  away  from  her  pain 
and  her  confused  sense  of  the  world  around  her,  pass  in 
dreams  of  the  home  she  was  never  to  see  again:  the  old, 
cool,  great-roomed  house,  in  an  old  walled  garden  where 
nightingales  sang  and  roses  perfumed  the  moonlight  on 
the  silent  paths,  or  stealing  into  the  waters  of  a  moat  that 
reflected  her  beams  in  the  time  of  the  Edwards  ? 

For  that  sluggish  trickle  beneath  ancestral  walls,  a  dry 
ditch  dug  by  soldiers  and  defended  by  cannon ;  for  roses 
and  moonlight,  the  fire-arrows'  sudden  blossom  on  the  dark 
and  the  ring  of  gun-flashes  against  the  woods  where  Mont- 


THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 


calm's  batteries  were  speaking ;  for  songs  of  nightingales, 
the  roar  of  the  Frenchman's  guns  and  the  dreadful  sala- 
quois,  the  death-whoop  of  his  savages  swarming  at  the 
gunners'  backs. 

Such  contrasts  life  and  love  will  continue  to  afford  their 
eager  participants,  and  poets  will  sing  to  the  end  of 
days : — 

"  Come  !  let  us  make  love  deathless,  thou  and  I, 
Seeing  that  our  footing  on  this  earth  is  brief." 

When  Mr.  Edmund  Yelverton,  within  a  few  hours,  be 
came  a  father,  a  widower,  and  a  prisoner  of  war,  he  had  less 
than  four-and-twenty  years  to  back  these  rapid  experi 
ences  ;  and  his  wife  was  an  infant  in  law  when  she  died. 
There  remained  a  girl-baby  in  the  arms  of  a  sunburned 
young  Scotch  woman,  who,  as  it  happened,  would  have 
died  or  done  anything  else  required  of  her  except  forsake 
that  unmilitary  bundle  she  carried  out  of  the  fort  on  the 
night  of  the  evacuation. 

Here  comes  into  the  story  a  misty  if  not  mythical  figure 
who  belongs  in  it  solely  on  the  word  of  Joanna.  No  one 
else  concerned,  except  the  unconscious  babe,  ever  saw  him, 
and  Joanna  could  pronounce  no  more  of  his  name  or 
names  in  a  manner  to  be  recognized  than  that  he  was  a 
Lieutenant  and  a  Chevalier  "  Honory"  ;  — the  main  fact 
about  him  being  that  he  could  bring  unusual  things  to 
pass,  either  through  personal  magnetism  or  interest  with 
higher  powers. 

But  first  he  breaks  into  the  tale  by  saving  her  silly 
bundle  from  the  clutch  of  an  Huron  war-chief  who  was 
about  to  do  what  might  have  been  expected  —  one  of 
those  moments  which  Frenchmen  and  English  as  well, 


A  DEBT  TO   THE   ENEMY 


when  they  bound  themselves  to  these  terrible  allies,  always 
thought  they  could  avert,  but  seldom  did. 

In  this  case  the  chevalier  was  not  too  late ;  but  he  was 
forced  to  bargain  with  his  horrid  confederate  for  the  inno 
cent  trophy  on  such  terms  as  alliances  with  savages  neces 
sitate.  We  leave  the  details  of  this  transaction  to  Joanna, 
who  told  them  unfalteringly  "to  her  dying  day."  Some  of 
them  she  may  have  borrowed  unconsciously  in  the  course 
of  many  retellings.  The  air  was  full  of  such  incidents,  all 
very  much  alike,  as  savages  are,  and  not  easily  overdrawn. 

She  went  too  far,  however,  in  claiming  to  have  witnessed 
anything  resembling  a  massacre  on  the  night  of  August  14. 
The  English  mind  became  distorted  by  what  was  done  a 
year  later,  with  no  extenuation,  at  Fort  William  Henry. 
No  such  wholesale  atrocities  can  be  set  against  Montcalm's 
great  name  in  connection  with  the  fall  of  Oswego.  But  if 
no  English  prisoners  were  murdered,  how  could  the  young 
Lieutenant  Honore  have  purchased  an  Englishman's  scalp 
"  fresh"  to  exchange  for  the  English  babe  ?  (Joanna  must 
answer  for  this ! )  And  why  does  history  tell  us  that  Mont- 
calm  gave  the  order  to  fire  on  his  Indian  friends,  if  they 
were  doing  nothing  to  warrant  so  extraordinary  and  dan 
gerous  a  step ! 

It  is  certain  that  great  gentleness  and  chivalry  were 
shown  in  her  case :  for,  while  the  military  prisoners  were 
sent  north  to  Montreal  to  be  exchanged,  a  confused  mass 
of  persons,  sick  and  wounded  and  non-combatants,  who 
incumbered  the  boats,  were  turned  back  at  Fort  Frontenac, 
our  intrepid  Joanna  being  amongst  them.  Had  she  remained 
with  them  undistinguished,  great  suffering  would  have 
been  hers,  and  the  babe  very  likely  must  have  died.  But 


8  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

her  gallant  deliverer  had  not  forgotten  to  complete  his 
work.  Through  his  instrumentality  a  nurse  was  procured 
for  the  scarce  breathing  infant — a  woman  of  the  Caugh- 
nawagas,  the  "  praying  Indians  "  from  the  Jesuit  colony 
on  the  St.  Lawrence.  Thence,  invested  with  a  white  flag, 
with  boatmen  who  were  guides  and  a  priest  bearing  a  billet 
from  the  Sieur  de  Montcalm  himself,  the  subaltern's  baby 
went  down  river,  borne  as  it  were  on  the  palms  of  the 
hands  of  its  enemies,  to  the  great  carrying-place  where 
General  Webb  had  arrived  too  late  to  save  Oswego,  — 
or  anything  else,  himself  excepted. 

From  here  the  way  is  open.  We  are  among  our  friends 
of  the  Long  House.  At  Albany  the  St.  Lawrence  woman 
goes  back  with  the  priest,  enriched  for  life  according  to 
savage  needs,  which  was  done  in  Yelverton's  name  by  a 
brother  officer  at  Fort  Frederick  —  to  Joanna's  peculiar 
wrath,  who  always  maintained  that  both  woman  and  priest 
were  spies  and  paid  by  the  French  already. 

Colonel  Philip  Schuyler  of  the  Flats,  son  of  the  renowned 
Quider,  remembered  well  the  young  lieutenant  and  his 
bride,  who  had  dined  at  his  house  on  the  river  highway  of 
the  armies.  Madam  Schuyler,  in  her  prime,  was  too  great 
a  personage  to  need  here  more  than  the  mention  of  her 
name  to  account  for  the  young  father's  instant  thought  of 
her  in  his  extremity.  (What  kind  and  motherly  advice  she 
had  given  his  sweet  girl,  taking  her  apart,  after  the  fine 
dinner  her  husband  gave  to  the  officers  of  the  new  battalion 
marching  north  to  their  wild  little  outpost !)  She  never 
would  have  questioned  a  claim  of  this  nature  on  personal 
grounds,  but  recognized  it  as  one  of  the  simple  human 
exigencies  of  those  cruel  times. 


A  DEBT  TO   THE   ENEMY 


The  loss  of  Oswego,  moreover,  was  a  blow  felt  all  down 
the  Hudson  in  every  hamlet  and  farm,  for  with  it  fell  the 
last  barrier  between  them  and  the  French,  save  Fort  John 
son  and  the  wavering  tribes  Sir  William  might  be  able 
to  influence. 

To  the  Flats,  then,  Joanna  found  her  way  with  the  babe 
of  war.  Her  instructions  were  to  learn  from  Madam  Schuy- 
ler  if  possible  some  means  of  communicating  with  one 
Adrian  Deyo,  a  Calvinist  minister  of  Huguenot  descent, 
who  had  married  in  his  student  days  abroad,  Catherine 
Yelverton,  our  lieutenant's  second  cousin,  the  one  woman 
in  the  colonies  on  whom  he  could  base  a  claim  in  blood  to 
succor  his  waif  babe.  These  persons  he  knew  to  be  in  fair 
circumstances,  the  dominie's  father  having  been  one  of 
twelve  patentees,  called  the  Duzine  of  Nieu  Palz,  who  settled 
some  fifty  years  earlier  a  rich  tract  of  land  on  some  creek  or 
"kill"  inland  and  west  of  the  Hudson.  But  the  distance 
of  this  village  from  the  Flats,  whether  north  or  south,  Mr. 
Yelverton  knew  no  more  than  any  young  Englishman 
knew  of  the  "  Dutch  "  settlements  up  the  river.  Everything 
the  English  had  not  themselves  planted  in  the  Province 
they  renamed  was  "  Dutch  "  to  them. 

The  Schuylers  were  as  hospitable  to  the  clergy  as  to  the 
army.  Probably  Madam  had  entertained  every  dominie 
of  note  the  classis  of  Amsterdam  had  sent  out  since  she 
became  mistress  of  the  Flats.  She  set  Joanna  forth  in  all 
possible  comfort  on  the  last  stage  of  her  journey,  which 
ended  in  a  cart-track  following  blazed  trees  to  the  little 
Dutch-Palatine  village  on  the  Wallkill. 

The  babe  so  thrust  upon  him,  Dominie  Deyo  does  not 
mention  in  his  journal  of  that  year  until  the  day  he  held 


10  THE   KOYAL  AMERICANS 

her  at  the  font,  when  "  there  was  born  anew  of  water  and 
the  Holy  Ghost,  Catherine  Honoree,  Infant  daughter  of 
Lieut.  Yelverton,  my  wife's  cousin,  restrained  at  Mont 
real  a  prisoner  of  war  whom  God  protect :  being,  the 
said  C.  H.  (so  named  for  her  mother  and  in  memory  of  her 
unknown  deliverer)  the  first  child  of  English  parents  bap 
tized  in  the  Church  called  by  its  founders,  1683,  1'eglise  de 
Nouveau  Palatinat." 

The  infant's  "  witnesses  "  were  Catherine  Deyo  and 
Madam  Schuyler,  by  proxy ;  and  on  the  side  of  male  re 
sponsibility,  another  stranger,  Madam's  house-chaplain, 
sent  with  gifts  for  the  occasion  and  charged  to  bring  back 
news  of  the  babe,  which  she  had  better  means  of  forward 
ing  to  its  father  than  our  friends  at  the  WaUkill. 


CHAPTEE  II 

DOMINIE  Deyo  stood  at  his  front  gate,  looking  up  the 
village  street.  At  the  bridge  it  made  a  sharp  turn ;  his  view 
in  that  direction  was  stopped  by  a  wall  of  forest,  a  part  of 
the  original  wilderness  of  his  father's  time. 

He  was  dressed  plainly  as  usual,  wearing  his  own  iron- 
gray  hair  without  powder,  yet  his  appearance  bore  out  a 
general  air  of  expecting  company,  emphasized  by  silk  stock 
ings  and  a  remarkably  fluted  set  of  ruffles,  which  looked  as 
if  fresh  from  the  iron.  In  the  kitchen-end  of  the  house  there 
was  running  to  and  fro,  rather  more  of  a  stir  than  the  ap 
proach  of  supper-time  ordinarily  would  warrant.  A  little 
black  boy  plucking  pigeons  in  the  wood-shed,  clad  in  a 
large  apron,  rubbed  the  down  from  his  nostrils  and  tried 
to  hear  what  the  women  inside  were  saying. 

Mis'  Honory  not  come  home  yet  (Tob  knew  that  of 
course),  and  school  out  this  hour  and  more.  And  Cap 
tain  Yelverton's  orderly  had  ridden  ahead  to  announce 
him,  and  had  gone  back  to  Hoornbeck's  tavern  to  get 
beds  for  himself  and  two  privates  and  the  captain's  man, 
and  stabling  for  their  horses.  The  captain  was  out  on  a 
"detail" — what  was  a  detail?  And  his  little  daughter, 
whom  he  had  not  seen  since  two  years,  "  kytin'  awa'  wi' 
yon  Bassy  Dunbar !  Sic  a  business !  "  Mrs.  Joanna  washed 
her  hands  of  it.  In  her  opinion  that  roving  jockey  was  no 
more  a  Dunbar  than  he  was  a  prince.  Names  were  easy 
palmed  off  in  a  country  full  of  Dutch  bodies  that  called  a 
babe's  witness  at  the  font  a  peet-tante  ! 


12  THE   EOYAL   AMERICANS 

This  of  course  was  Joanna's  jealousy  of  an  acquaintance 
sanctioned  by  the  higher  powers,  against  her  judgment  and 
advice.  Tob  knew  that  also  ;  if  he  had  n't  —  his  young  eyes 
would  have  been  opened  by  Gulie  the  cook,  a  lady  of  his 
own  color,  not  always  pleasant  to  live  with  but  an  ally  in 
the  main  against  one  who  read  the  law  to  them  both  and 
spared  not  the  letter. 

Three  years  ago  the  house  lost  its  own,  a  sweeter,  mis 
tress  :  —  the  dominie's  beloved  Catherine,  who  gave  a 
mother's  love  to  the  babe  the  "  Great  War  "  sent  them,  till 
God  took  her,  in  the  fifth  year  of  that  trust  and  the  twelfth 
of  their  marriage.  She  had  prayed  for  a  child  of  her  own, 
and  the  inscrutable  answer  to  that  prayer  lay  on  her  cold 
breast  and  was  buried  with  her. 

The  name  was  put  away  in  the  shrinking  freshness  of 
that  grief.  Tentatively,  while  the  household  tried  the  new 
name  on  its  several  tongues,  the  dominie's  ward  became 
Honoree.  Joanna  in  decency  submitted,  but  she  complained 
of  the  change,  when  otherwise  irritated.  It  had  the  effect 
upon  her  nerves  of  the  last  straw.  "  A  sair  come-doon  for 
the  puir  lassiekie,  to  be  ca'd  by  a  man's  name  and  a  French 
man  at  that ! " 

"  She  comes,  dominie.  They  are  here  already,"  a  neigh 
bor  trotted  up-street  to  say.  "  The  father  has  her  up  be 
fore  him  on  his  horse.  She  is  smiling,  see  ?  She  sits  like 
a  trooper.  I  believe  you,  he  will  hold  her  tight  now  he  has 
got  her  once  more  again !  " 

It  was  but  half  a  mile  as  the  village  ran  following  the 
bend  of  the  creek,  from  Hoornbeck's  tavern  at  one  end  to 
the  dominie's  house  at  the  other.  Honoree's  ride  was  a  short 
one,  but  a  marvelous  stroke  of  joy  while  it  lasted.  Her 


A  DEBT  TO   THE   ENEMY  13 

father  had  overtaken  her  on  the  bridge,  and  said  he  was 
her  father,  and  put  out  his  hand  and  the  toe  of  his  boot. 
Bassy  Dunbar  had  given  her  a  hoist  and  fixed  the  pistol- 
holster  so  it  should  not  jam  her  knee.  There  was  not  much 
room  in  front.  The  captain's  arm  tightened  strong  about 
her  —  she  could  feel  him  breathe  and  the  horse's  withers 
twitch.  Of  course  Bassy  had  to  be  left  behind.  A  great 
sunset  broke  out  from  the  woods  beyond  the  village,  like 
a  burst  of  cheers.  It  splashed  the  road  and  the  horse  and 
riders,  and  the  little  knots  of  people  gathering,  with  flakes 
of  orange  and  gold. 

Bassy  found  himself  one  of  a  group  who  watched,  in 
this  spectacular  light,  the  meeting  at  the  dominie's  gate. 

Now  the  little  girl  is  lifted  down  and  the  two  men 
grasp  hands  hard  in  silence.  How  pale  does  our  dominie 
look !  They  walk  up  the  cobbled  path  with  the  child  be 
tween  them ;  it  is  her  father  holds  her  hand. 

A  good  vrow  says,  knitting  her  brows  against  the  strong 
low  light :  "  He  ought  to  thank  God :  this  is  the  second 
time  he  is  back  with  his  life  and  finds  his  child  here  the 
same." 

"  Where  would  he  find  her  but  where  he  left  her, 
Anneke!" 

"  You  know  it  is  bad  luck  to  say  that.  He  might  any 
time  find  her  dead  already." 

"  More  likely  he  might  be  married !  A  handsome  man 
like  him  —  it  is  wonderful  he  stays  single  eight  long  years, 
was  n't  it  ?  " 

Anneke  eyed  her  husband  sharply.  "  I  see  no  wonder  in 
that.  But  what  is  a  man  when  God  has  taken  away  his 
wife !  —  Did  you  see  how  he  was  powdered,  as  if  he  was 


14  THE   KOYAL  AMERICANS 

going  to  sup  with  the  Governor  and  Council  ?  What  fool 
ishness  is  that!  An  hour  wasted  when  he  might  have 
been  hugging  his  child." 

"  The  orderly  told  him  she  was  not  come  at  the  house. 
He  says  this  captain  takes  always  a  man  with  him  to 
curl  his  hair  and  clean  his  boots." 

"If  he  knew  his  duty  that  orderly  would  not  talk  so 
much,"  said  Bassy,  the  English  boy,  turning  red. 

The  captain's  servant  clattered  by,  on  his  way  back  to 
the  tavern,  leading  his  master's  horse.  The  western  woods 
had  put  out  their  lights  of  welcome.  At  the  dominie's, 
doors  were  shut  and  windows  beamed  with  candles.  There 
was  nothing  more  to  see,  but  plenty  more  to  talk  over  in 
one's  own  house  before  bedtime. 


CHAPTER  III 

BY  the  fire,  after  supper,  Captain  Yelverton  lifted  his 
daughter  to  his  kriee.  He  held  her  a  little  one  side,  the 
better  to  scan  her  features,  with  shocks  of  memory  at  a 
likeness  he  sees  growing  there.  He  bends  down  to  ask 
what  it  is  we  whisper  ? 

She  fingers  the  bullion  on  his  high-collared  neck  and 
repeats,  "  Are  you  come  to  take  us  with  you  this  time, 
papa?" 

The  emphasis  means  that  last  year  word  was  sent  to 
prepare  her  for  a  quick  journey  with  her  father  and  Joanna, 
back  to  England  —  home,  the  captain  would  have  said. 
Then  all  went  blurred  in  rumors  of  war.  Pontiac's  Con 
spiracy  had  broken  out.  The  captain's  leave  was  peremp 
torily  revoked.  He  passed  out  of  their  safe  and  simple 
lives  into  a  confused  drama  of  wilderness  warfare  —  that 
duel  to  the  death  between  Red  man  and  White,  in  which 
the  two  races  at  times  became  one  in  ferocity,  and  the 
virgin  continent  they  strove  for  was  the  scene  of  deeds 
which  even  the  historian  nowadays  veils  in  fine  print,  in 
his  footnotes  and  appendices. 

After  the  51st  regiment  was  disbanded,  Yelverton  had 
obtained  a  company  in  the  60th  Royal  Americans.  He  was 
on  a  pressing  errand  from  his  colonel  to  General  Gage, 
who  had  sent  him  with  further  instructions  to  Albany, 
pending  arrangements  for  a  great  summer  campaign; 
Bradstreet  cooperating  on  the  Lakes  with  Bouquet  clean- 
ing  up  the  border  westward  from  Carlisle. 


16  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

His  words  on  public  matters  went  over  the  child's  head 
while  she  renewed  her  acquaintance  with  her  father's  per 
son  ;  from  his  strong,  soft  hands,  slightly  hairy  below  the 
middle  joint,  half  hid  in  lace  that  flowed  out  of  a  great 
gold-braided  cuff,  to  the  solid  curves  of  his  lips  and  the 
"  fighting  chin  "  which  shared  with  a  high-bridged  nose 
the  honors  of  the  profile.  Add  a  warm  blue  eye,  with  cor 
ners  full  of  sweetness. 

He  was  considered  one  of  the  finest  officers  in  the  colo 
nial  service  at  the  time.  A  pretty  lady  told  his  daughter 
so,  a  few  months  later. 

In  a  voice  that  she  knew  was  meant  for  her,  he  said  he 
had  stopped  in  the  village,  where  his  fellow  had  shaved 
him  that  he  might  kiss  his  little  girl.  He  did  so,  once 
more  —  carefully,  as  if  not  used  to  the  ceremony  on  so 
small  a  scale.  To  her  guardian  he  commented  on  the  free 
dom  every  one  spoke  of  who  was  lately  come  from  Eng 
land,  in  the  manners  both  of  men  and  women  of  the  highest 
fashion. 

"  I  am  not  sure  but  you  are  preserving  over  here  better 
samples  in  your  colonial  society  of  what  an  English  lady 
used  to  be.  'T  is  amazing  how  the  point  of  view  changes 
when  you  are  the  father  of  a  girl.  But  for  a  few  worldly 
reasons,  I  should  be  inclined  to  keep  her  here  —  make 
her  a  little  Colonial,  first  and  last.  How  think  you,  sir  ?  " 

The  dominie  believed  in  not  shirking  any  portion  of 
one's  natural  inheritance.  "  Character  can  be  formed  only 
through  manifold  tests.  Some  she  will  encounter  here,  but 
not  all,  nor  perhaps  the  most  searching." 

Captain  Yelverton  answered  nothing  to  this.  He  passed 
the  back  of  one  finger  over  the  soft  cheek  nearest  him. 


A  DEBT  TO  THE   ENEMY  17 

"And  so  you  call  her  Honoree  —  my  little  English 
Catherine !  Strangely  the  fates  have  handled  thee !  Born 
in  the  American  wilderness ;  captured  by  the  French ;  saved 
by  a  Frenchman  —  a  good  one,  God  bless  him !  Suckled 
by  a  savage ;  aided  by  the  Dutch ;  sheltered  and  trained 
and  cherished,  —  must  I  take  off  my  hat  again  to  France, 
dominie  ?  or  do  you  call  yourself  — " 

"  I  am  a  son  of  the  Protestant  religion  and  a  loyal  sub 
ject  of  King  George,"  the  dominie  answered  quietly. 

Both  men  were  smiling.  They  exchanged  the  warmest 
glances. 

"  We  must  not  forget  Joanna's  large  share  in  this  con- 
comity  of  nations,"  said  the  elder. 

"  Have  no  fear,  sir  !  The  Scotch  thistle  will  find  means 
to  make  her  presence  known.  It  is  an  ill  weed  to  crowd. 
Have  you  so  found  it,  dominie  ?  " 

"  Nay,  I  have  no  complaint.  Those  who  dwell  under  one 
roof  can  have  few  disguises ;  Joanna  hath  not  been  able 
to  hide  that  under  her  prickles  she  wears  a  heart." 

"  My  little  one  tells  me  she  was  up  in  a  tree  in  the 
hanging  wood  and  saw  her  father's  red  coat  down  the  road 
—  and  came  running  '  to  see  the  soldiers.'  She  was  not 
climbing  trees,  or  playing  with  big  boys  when  I  saw 
her  last.  Have  we  not  shaken  out  a  reef  in  our  disci 
pline?'-' 

"  I  think  we  are  the  better  for  it,"  the  dominie  replied. 
"  Our  good  Joan  was  right.  She  had  need  to  be  more  with 
other  children." 

"  Do  you  call  that  strapping  lad  who  was  with  her  a 
child?" 

"  Bassy  Dunbar  may  be  perhaps  thirteen.  I  do  not  know 


18  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

that  his  age  is  against  him  as  company  for  a  child.  I  think 
he  has  a  good  clean  mind." 

"  What  persons  of  sorts  have  you  around  you  here  ?  " 
the  captain  inquired  somewhat  restively. 

"  We  are  of  many  sorts,  my  dear  captain,  chiefly  re 
markable  to  ourselves  and  our  neighbors." 

The  captain  smiled.  But  after  his  little  girl  was  gone 
to  bed,  he  recurred  with  evident  intention  to  the  subject 
of  her  friendships.  "  Dunbar,"  he  said,  "  is  a  good  name 
in  some  parts  of  the  world.  Has  this  4  Bassy '  anything  by 
chance  that  belongs  to  it?  " 

"  He  has  himself,"  the  dominie  replied,  "  and  a  father 
who  answers  indifferently  to  the  title  —  still,  Isaac  might 
be  worse.  He  might  have  been  like  his  own  father !  " 

"  You  don't  appear  to  lay  much  stress  on  blood  in  the 
rising  generation  ?  " 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,  it  takes  more  than  one  kind  of  blood 
to  make  a  generation.  Bassy's  male  progenitors  have  abun 
dantly  served  the  purpose  of  warnings.  The  examples  come 
down  in  the  female  line." 

"  I  thought  you  had  been  all  Dutch  and  Palatine  and 
Huguenot,  in  this  valley  ?  " 

"  Our  decalogue-breakers  are  more  often  English,"  the 
dominie  twinkled.  "  Nor  is  the  Greathead  grant  in  the 
valley.  'T  is  difficult  to  say  where  it  is,  or  is  not !  The 
present  incumbent  will  not  let  the  parchment  out  of  her 
hands ;  the  old  records  are  in  New  York.  It  was  a  gift 
of  Charles  the  Second  to  a  Major  Greathead,  for  some 
such  service  as  may  buy  the  love  of  kings.  The  major 
fought  under  Cromwell :  it  may  have  been  the  reward  of 
a  turncoat." 


A  DEBT  TO  THE   ENEMY  19 

"  There  was  a  Greathead  who  sold  out  his  non-conform 
ist  friends  in  the  Farnley  Wood  Plot.  That  I  believe  is 
history.  But  I  thought  we  were  speaking  of  Dunbars  ?  " 

"  Dunbar  was  the  maiden  name  of  Bassy's  grandmother. 
Jeremy  Greathead  gave  her  his,  in  marriage  ;  but  as  he  had 
given  it  to  another  woman  before  her,  the  gift  did  not  hold 
in  law." 

"  4 1  said  in  my  haste  all  men  are  liars,'  "  the  captain 
interposed  with  some  flippancy. 

"  Jeremy  truly  had  no  difficulty  that  way.  It  was  not, 
though,  his  peculiar  vice.  He  had  others  that  led  up  to  it. 
Jerry  was  a  sort  of  home-made  pirate  when  he  came  over 
here  to  subdue  his  father's  lands.  He  married — as  he  drank 
wine  or  ate  his  dinner.  The  woman  desired  a  ceremony  of 
some  sort.  He  gave  her  her  wish,  and  it  happened  to  be 
legal.  It  never  incommoded  him.  He  went  back  to  England 
on  a  visit,  about  the  beginning  of  Queen  Anne.  There,  in 
his  native  village  of  Morley ,  he  saw  this  goodly  maid  not  half 
his  years  —  Rose  Dunbar.  He  married  her,  in  his  way ;  — 
perhaps  it  was  meant  to  be  a  better  way  this  time,  but  the 
result  was  the  same  —  for  her.  He  brought  her  over  here 
to  live,  with  a  paid-off  household  in  his  back  lands.  There 
were  two  women  he  had  to  deal  with.  The  supplanted  wife 
he  had  got  under  his  thumb  completely  ;  but  her  grown-up 
daughter  Alison  —  she  was  his  own  child  !  She  kept  her 
part  of  the  bargain  till  a  son  was  born  (Isaac,  the  father 
of  Bassy),  and  now  she  thought  she  might  raise  her  price. 
She  paid  the  young  mother  a  visit  —  choosing  her  time. 
But  Rose  Dunbar  had  no  wish  to  buy  anything.  She  took 
her  babe,  and  nothing  more  that  was  Jeremy's,  and  went 
up  to  Albany  to  see  Dominie  Schaats.  From  him  she  learned 


20  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

the  very  truth  of  her  position.  It  was  said  the  old  man,  after 
dealing  her  this  blow,  helped  her  to  her  freedom  —  covered 
her  concealment  from  him  who  would  have  searched  her 
out. 

"  Jeremy  never  saw  his  lost  ones  again.  He  died  intes 
tate  ;  the  unloved  daughter  who  broke  up  his  home  stands 
seized  to-day  of  all  he  left.  Stands,  do  I  say !  Alison  keeps 
her  bed  these  eleven  years — no  worse  afflicted,  I  believe, 
than  by  sloth  and  spleen.  A  pair  of  knavish  old  servants 
spread  tales  about  her  and  feed  her  superstitious  mind. 
They  make  their  profit  out  of  her  decline.  Latterly,  Isaac, 
who  calls  himself  the  Defrauded,  hangs  about  the  place. 
His  good,  brave  mother  would  not  trust  him  with  the  proofs 
of  his  paternity  till  she  was  beyond  Jeremy's  power.  —  He 
has  been  very  busy  in  the  matter  since  her  death.  He  conjec 
tures  a  will  cutting  off  Alison  in  favor  of  his  mother  and 
himself.  The  servants  have  whispered  him  that  the  dame 
lies  in  her  great  oak  bed  across  the  door  of  her  father's 
safe- vault,  to  guard  what  she  keeps  there  hid." 

"  Does  the  man  do  nothing  for  a  living  ?  Does  he  live 
upon  this  half-sister  he  is  trying  to  oust  ?  " 

"  No,  no.  He  does  many  things  —  not  anything  steadily. 
At  his  best  he  traces  up  old  boundary-marks  and  makes 
surveys  for  Mr.  Croghan,  Sir  William's  deputy.  That  is 
since  the  Golden  Act  'for  the  better  collecting  of  quit- 
rents.'  At  his  poorest  we  have  him  mousing  about  here, 
writing  me  letters  to  point  out  what  quarrels  shall  ensue 
on  the  dame's  decease  if  she  name  not  him  as  her  heir. 
He  sits  by  her  bed  for  hours,  hoping  to  pluck  from  her 
rambling  talk  some  admission  to  support  his  theory.  But 
that  will  is  an  obsession.  Jeremy  would  have  put  his  will 


A   DEBT   TO   THE   ENEMY  21 

in  safer  hands  than  Alison's  had  he  made  one  to  disinherit 
her.  To  be  sure,  his  death  was  sudden  —  " 

"  I  should  think  the  danger  of  future  litigation  might 
be  real  enough." 

"  It  is.  There  are  no  greater  nuisances  in  settling  up  a 
country  than  these  old  derelict  grants  that  lie  unf  ores  ted, 
to  rip  up  later  titles  that  are  floated  over  them  in  igno 
rance.  Now  I  have  told  you  a  long  tale  about  persons  you 
will  never  think  of  again  —  " 

"  I  leave  you  to  do  my  thinking,  here,  sir.  If  you  choose 
this  boy  with  the  crooked  ancestry  for  a  squire  o'  the 
woods  to  our  little  maid,  I  shall  not  say  nay.  You  know 
him  better  than  I  can." 

"  Did  you  see  anything  crooked  in  his  countenance  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit.  He  looks  you  in  the  eye." 

"  /  see  in  him  "  said  the  dominie,  "  that  good  Yorkshire 
grandmother  who  made  her  long  fight  alone,  with  a  son 
who  could  have  been  small  comfort  to  her.  I  should  like 
to  see  the  best  blood  in  that  tough  old  stock  have  its 
chance.  —  Not  at  any  better  breed's  expense.  But  I  trust 
that  boy ;  and  I  judge  his  influence  over  our  little  maid, 
by  her  face  and  her  words  when  she  has  been  with  him." 

"  I  would  not  deny  him  his  chance  of  so  sweet  a  trust  — 
but  —  are  there  no  little  wenches  for  my  baby  to  play  at 
dolls  with?" 

"  Alas ! "  the  dominie  smiled  and  spread  his  hands. 
"  Our  excellent  Joanna  hath  taken  her  stand  on  the  ques 
tion,  raised  by  herself,  whether  it  were  meet  the  daughter 
of  a  gentleman  who  holds  His  Majesty's  commission  should 
be  *  evened '  with  the  daughters  of  the  butcher,  the  baker, 
'  -an'  sic  like.'  (Thy  pardon,  good  Joan !)  The  village  has 


22  THE   KOYAL  AMEEICANS 

heard  of  it.  Enough!  We  are  poor  artisan-farmers,  but 
we  have  our  pride.  Are  we  not  the  seed  of  the  Kighteous  — 
the  stones  the  old-world  builders  rejected  ?  No ;  the  feudal 
idea  will  never  take  root  in  such  soil  as  this.  But,  for  the 
present,  I  like  well  enough  the  coolness  Joanna's  pride  hath 
created.  There  is  much  gossip  of  a  hardening  kind  spoke 
here  before  children  which  only  nerves  well  padded — " 

"  As  your  Dutch  goodwives  pad  their  petticoats  ?  " 

"Aye,"  the  dominie  assented,  without  smiling.  "The 
very  incidents  of  this  war  — " 

The  captain  nodded  quickly.  After  a  silence,  he  said : 
"You  have  heard  what  they  did  to  poor  Gordon,  at  Ve- 
nango  ?  two  days  and  two  nights  —  over  slow  fires  —  till  he 
died  !  That  is  their  tribute  to  bravery." 

"  My  God  my  God !  "  the  dominie  groaned  aloud. 
"Yet  how  much  more  guilty  are  we  —  according  to 
Christ's  « they  know  not  what  they  do  ! '  who  sow  our  vices 
among  them,  and  use  their  natural  ferocity  against  our  own 
brothers !  It  is  the  unpardonable  sin  on  both  sides,  to  use 
the  savages  in  our  wars.  And  still  we  pray  to  the  same 
God  in  the  name  of  the  same  merciful  Saviour.  Thy  little 
one  prays  for  her  father,  mon  capitaine ;  morning  and 
evening,  she  prays  for  thee.  Prayers  such  as  those  are 
not  lost  'twixt  earth  and  heaven.  Thou  shalt  be  spared." 

"  I  ought  to  live,"  said  the  captain  simply.  "  I  owe  it  to 
my  motherless  child.  But  suppose,  in  this  big  campaign 
that  will  finish  some  of  us,  I  should  be  one?  It  occurs  to 
me  there  are  matters  I  had  best  acquaint  you  with,  dom 
inie,  that  you  may  know,  if  I  should  fall,  what  my  child 
will  have  to  depend  on." 

The  dominie's  gentle  gaze  showed  deep  attention. 


A  DEBT  TO  THE   ENEMY  23 

"  My  Catherine  whom  I  lost  was  the  only  child  of  the 
second  Mrs.  Gentrey,  who  died  before  the  old  squire.  She 
brought  him  the  Holte  property;  and  she  left  it  equally 
between  his  daughter,  Sophia,  her  step-child,  and  her  own 
flesh  and  blood.  The  entail  of  Littledene  is  restricted  to 
male  heirs,  and  Squire  Gentrey  was  bereaved  of  his  sons. 
The  estate's  incomes  are  not  large,  but  he  managed  to 
save  decent  portions  for  his  two  daughters  before  he  was 
through  with  it.  When  he  lost  his  last  son,  his  hope 
centred  in  Catherine.  She  was  the  beauty,  the  one  whose 
age  might  suit  with  a  marriage  to  the  heir,  his  nephew, 
who  was  a  young  widower  with  a  child  not  likely  to  grow 
up.  But  she  met  me.  To  part  on  the  eve  of  a  campaign 
in  America  was  like  death  to  us  both.  You  know  the  step 
we  took. 

"  Her  father  made  bitter  haste  to  change  his  will,  and 
died,  almost  the  next  day,  of  heart  disease  complicated 
with  wrath.  Sophia  Gentrey  has  half  of  the  Holte  property 
from  my  wife's  mother.  She  has  her  own  and  my  wife's 
portion  also  from  their  father.  She  ought  to  do  something 
for  little  Catherine.  She  ought  surely  to  will  back  to  her 
her  own  mother's  patrimony,  that  was  left  away  from  her 
by  my  fault.  My  wife  was  under  age  when  she  died.  Her 
half  of  the  Holte  estate  was  then  in  the  hands  of  her  trus 
tees,  and  so  remains,  tied  up,  in  England,  for  my  little  girl. 
By  the  terms  of  her  grandmother's  will,  a  small  allowance, 
about  ninety  pounds,  comes  to  her  yearly ;  which  I  have 
never  touched.  It  is  in  three  per  cent  bank  annuities,  and 
Sir  William  Baker  has  the  management.  I  will  empower 
you  to  draw  it  for  her  use ;  and,  if  I  fall,  't  will  pay  her 
expenses  over  to  England  to  her  Aunt  Sophia. 


24  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

"  You  have  my  worldly  reasons  now  for  sending  her. 
The  child  has  lain  on  her  aunt's  conscience,  I  infer,  since 
she  appears  to  have  less  affection  for  her  than  is  natural. 
I  know  no  better  way  to  increase  her  love  than  to  give  her 
the  care  of  the  child  personally.  The  more  she  does  for  her 
the  more  she  will  incline  to  do.  Sophia  is  not  a  mean-hearted 
woman. 

"  I  'm  a  poor  dog  of  a  younger  son ;  but  if  I  see  this 
war  out,  that  will  end  my  fighting.  I  shall  settle  on  a  slice 
of  bounty  land  over  here  and  raise  beef  and  cabbages. 
But  that  will  be  when,  as  your  learned  Dr.  Smith  says, 
4  The  doors  of  the  temple  of  Janus  are  closed  once  more 
in  this  western  world.'  " 


CHAPTER  IV 

ONE  hot  July  morning,  during  school  vacation,  Honoree 
was  taken  up  behind  her  cousin,  riding  pillion  on  her  scar 
let  cushion,  old  Didymus'  broad  haunches  working  be 
neath  her. 

They  were  bound  for  the  wood-lots, —  formerly  held  in 
commonalty  but  now  to  be  divided,  —  on  the  business  of 
fencing  the  dominie's  portion,  and  were  as  far  on  their 
road  as  a  certain  watering-trough  near  the  upper  gate  of  a 
property  known  as  Quaker  Meadows ;  Jonathan  Havergal, 
the  owner,  being  one  of  the  very  few  Friends  settled  so 
far  up  the  Hudson. 

The  home-lot  was  on  the  south  slope  of  a  lovely  valley 
lighted  by  tall  poplars  filled  with  sunshine,  that  lazy 
steaming  midsummer  morning.  A  slow  rustle  in  their  tops 
showed  the  air  in  motion,  though  every  other  leaf  was  still ; 
the  sumach  and  alder  bushes  loaded  with  dust  and  the 
roadside  cedars  dun  with  it. 

Amidst  the  shimmering  of  the  poplars  could  be  seen 
the  roofs  and  chimneys  of  a  comfortable,  gray  home 
stead. 

It  was  so  still,  a  dog  could  be  heard  barking  down  in 
that  valley ;  he  barked  incessantly.  The  cause  of  his  pro 
longed  irritation  showed  itself  presently:  a  horseman 
climbing  the  hill,  who  would  lately  have  passed  the  house 
gate.  He  was  a  fat  man,  a  heavy  load  for  the  small  sorrel 
pony  that  carried  him,  her  heaving  sides  glossy  with 
sweat.  At  her  tail  trotted  a  meaner  sort  of  person,  judg- 


26  THE   KOYAL  AMERICANS 

ing  by  his  soiled  blue  cottonade  frock,  and  coon-skin  cap 
in  midsummer,  which  caused  his  face  to  run  streams. 

On  the  hilltop  both  men  paused  to  wrestle  with  the 
pony,  who  had  bolted  for  the  farm  gate,  refusing  to  pass  it. 

Her  rider  cast  his  weight  on  her  bit,  sawing  her  mouth 
cruelly,  while  the  other  belabored  her  with  his  goad.  The 
pretty  creature  at  this  seemed  to  go  quite  wild.  A  cloud 
of  dust  arose,  amidst  which  she  whirled  and  plunged,  till 
he  that  had  been  basting  her  suddenly  found  himself  laid 
flat  by  her  heels  with  a  foolish  grin  on  his  astonished 
features. 

The  dominie  dismounted,  setting  Honoree  upon  the 
ground,  and  leaving  Didymus,  his  dripping  nose  poised 
wonderingly  above  the  watering-trough.  To  the  large  per 
son  on  horseback  he  addressed  himself  politely,  though 
with  a  certain  smiling  condescension. 

"  Diedrich,  I  think  you  go  the  wrong  way  to  work  with 
that  filly.  She  makes  ready  to  throw  herself.  If  you  be 
underneath  't  will  go  hard  with  a  man  of  your  size." 

Honoree  had  been  watching  a  brace  of  lads  come  run 
ning  toward  the  gate  through  the  stubble-fields,  neck  and 
neck.  The  taller  drew  ahead,  flung  himself  over  the  gate, 
and  stood  up  before  the  dominie,  a  man  in  height,  but  with 
a  simple,  almost  childlike  face.  His  paleness  and  heaving 
chest  showed  excitement,  yet  his  voice  was  kept  under. 

"  Friend,  may  I  call  thy  attention  ?  —  This  pony  was 
my  father's  not  an  hour  ago.  Now  she  is  taken  by  the 
town  ;  but  shall  the  sheriff  abuse  her  ?  She  is  not  his.  If 
she  is  to  be  sold,  he  is  hurting  her  value  by  such  treat 
ment." 

"  You  say  well,  my  son.  Your  father  is  Jonathan  Hav- 


A   DEBT  TO  THE   ENEMY  27 

ergal  ?  He  is  a  kind  man  to  his  creatures.  Better  get  down, 
sheriff,  while  the  little  vixen  is  quiet.  See,  how  she  knows 
the  right  touch !  " 

The  younger  boy  had  come  up  by  this,  and  stood  at  the 
pony's  head  stroking  her  with  hands  that  trembled.  His 
face  showed  heat  and  fury.  Honoree  looked  at  him  with 
wonder  at  his  great  beauty,  for  such  faces  were  not  often 
seen  in  that  community. 

"  Better  get  down,  Diedrich,  while  you  are  able  to  man 
age  it,"  the  dominie  urged,  very  cheerful. 

"  Yes,"  Diedrich  panted,  wiping  his  huge  countenance. 
"  Once  I  am  down,  how  then  shall  I  come  up  again  ?  It  is 
best  we  look  ahead  a  little." 

"  It  may  not  be  necessary,"  the  dominie  encouraged  him, 
"if  you  found  a  purchaser  who  would  save  you  the 
trouble." 

"Here?  Now?  You  will  buy  her  yourself,  dominie?  I 
heard  that  you  was  wanting  a  pad  with  proper  furniture, 
for  the  use  of  a  —  " 

"  Tell  me :  who  has  a  lien  upon  the  beast?  By  what  pro 
cess  of  law  is  she  seized?" 

"  For  taxes,  dominie.  She  will  to-morrow  be  sold  after 
milking  time  in  front  of  Hoornbeck's  tavern.  If  you  like 
to  bespeak  her,  I  will  have  it  known,  at  the  price  you  give. 
I  think  there  will  not  be  so  many  bidders." 

"  I  shall  not  be  one,  if  you  fight  with  her  to  town !  Be 
assured  of  that.  What  can  you  say  for  her,  lads?  Is  she 
kind?" 

"  If  she  be  not  crossed,"  David  Havergal  replied.  "  She 
is  pure-bred  Narragansett.  My  brother  Simeon  broke  her 
to  bridle.  She  hath  not  pulled  in  harness.  But  my  father 


28  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

is  not  selling  her.  If  he  were,  he  would  not  teach  her 
meanness  first." 

"  The  law,  I  understand,  is  selling  her.  Now,  could  I 
be  told,"  said  the  dominie,  "  what  hold  the  law  can  have 
upon  her,  the  property  of  a  neighbor  who  pays  his  dues  to 
all  men?" 

"  Not  his  tax  for  the  army,  dominie,"  the  schout  inter 
posed.  "  He  has  four  big  sons  loping  about  his  bowerie  and 
two  are  fit  for  militia,  but  his  conscience  is  against  war ; 
and  our  Council  leaves  none  of  those  loopholes  which  the 
Quakers  crawl  through,  I  am  told,  in  the  Pennsylvania 
Assembly,  when  they  vote  on  war  supplies.  They  pay 
money,  as  they  say,  '  for  the  King's  use,'  and  it  goes  for 
fighting ;  but  they  think  maybe  they  do  not  know  that ;  or 
they  pay  for  buying  wheat  and  corn  '  and  other  grains ' 
for  the  troops  ;  those  '  other  grains '  being  fine  and  black, 
namely  gunpowder.  Times  being  what  they  are,  I  see  the 
difficulty  of  those  Quakers.  They  have  joined  themselves 
to  their  peace  principles  and  set  them  above  human  lives 
—  yes,  even  little  childs  and  women  —  " 

"I  think  the  law  need  not  complain,"  spoke  up  the  elder 
Havergal.  "  Last  year  they  took  one  of  our  Cots  wolds,  a 
thoroughbred  ram  from  England,  worth  five  times  what 
any  other  man  of  my  father's  acres  had  to  pay." 

"  The  costs  are  something,  dominie."  The  sheriff  ig 
nored  the  younger  speaker.  "  They  must  be  taken  from  the 
price.  The  Quaker  will  have  it  so.  His  conscience  is  an 
expense  to  him;  I  would  not  deny  it." 

"  Could  we  leave  my  father's  conscience,  now,  and  let 
us  get  to  the  pony,  if  this  person  wants  to  buy  her  ?  " 

It  was  the  younger  boy,  who  looked  not  more  than 


A   DEBT   TO  THE   ENEMY  29 

fourteen,  who  spoke  in  this  manner,  alluding  to  Dominie 
Deyo. 

The  dominie  smiled  his  amusement.  These  Quaker  lads 
entertained  him  vastly  ;  and  he  recognized  in  Francis  the 
age  when  shyness  with  boys  of  character  takes  the  form  of 
surliness. 

"  If  I  bid  on  her,  I  will  bid  precisely  five  pounds  less 
to-morrow,  Diedrich,  if  you  ride  the  beast  to  town." 

"  And  if  I  do  not  ride  her,"  Diedrich  pondered,  "  how 
then  do  I  get  to  town?" 

"  How  did  you  get  to  town  last  year  when  you  levied  on 
the  sheep?  " 

David's  hand  went  up  to  his  mouth.  Francis  covered 
his  face  and  shuddered  with  laughter.  Honoree  had  less 
sense  and  laughed  aloud.  It  was  a  critical  moment,  with 
the  sheriff's  dignity  in  the  balance. 

"  This  is  compounding,"  he  grumbled.  "  Five  pounds 
less  if  I  ride  her !  what  for  a  scheme  is  that  ?  To  make  me 
walk  on  my  feet  to  town.  I  am  a  heavy  man.  Well,  I  buy 
her  myself.  Five  pounds  will  pay  tax  and  costs.  I  pay  five 
pounds  for  her  to  pull  a  dump-cart." 

"  And  rob  thy  neighbor,  Diedrich  ?  I  will  treble  your 
bid,  to-morrow,  if  you  keep  off  her  back  to-day.  The  differ 
ence,  when  the  law  is  satisfied,  belongs  to  the  owner." 

"  He  has  a  right  to  forfeit  some  things  for  his  stubborn 
ness,  dominie." 

"  That  would  be  a  fine,  not  a  collection.  Our  Council 
does  not  punish  law-abiding  citizens  for  their  religious  prin 
ciples.  We  do  not  persecute  the  Quakers." 

The  set,  young  faces  of  the  Quaker  lads  softened  at  this 
generous  protest  from  one  of  the  "  hireling  ministry." 


30  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  I  am  honest,  dominie,  but  I  am  not  a  fool.  No  man 
not  a  dunderhead  would  lead  a  riding  beast  and  carry  his 
own  weight,  a  day  like  this.  I  would  be  ashamed  to  be 
seen  on  the  road." 

Here  David,  who  had  kept  his  eyes  upon  the  dominie, 
was  ready  with  an  offer  of  a  horse  better  suited  to  the 
sheriff's  weight,  if  he  would  but  delay  until  the  hay-team 
came  in  at  noon ;  and  "  mother,"  he  was  sure,  would  be 
pleased  to  have  him  sit  to  dinner  with  them. 

This  timely  piece  of  diplomacy  carried  the  day.  The 
Havergal  boys  might  be  satisfied  that  their  pet  had  found 
a  good  home.  Honoree  was  excited  but  mystified  —  and 
when  David  turned  to  her,  and  said  pleasantly  that  he 
hoped  she  would  ride  Melissa  down  to  visit  them  some  day, 
if  her  friends  gave  leave,  she  flushed  but  dared  not  trust 
herself  to  reply. 

"  What  do  you  call  her,  then,  'Melissa'  ?  "  the  dominie 
inquired,  entering  the  parley  ;  "  Melissa,  know  thy  mistress ! 
She  is  thine,  little  one.  Thy  father's  gift,  delayed  these 
many  weeks  by  thy  old  cousin's  prudence.  But  here  we 
know  the  whole  history.  Thy  brother  Simeon  broke  her," 
the  dominie  turned  to  David  smiling,  "  and  which  brother 
hath  been  most  her  rider  ?  " 

"  My  little  brother  —  Francis,"  said  David. 

Francis  turned  away  quickly,  but  Honoree  had  caught 
sight  of  his  face.  His  sense  of  loss  overcame  him. 

"  Do  we  want  to  take  away  his  pony  ?  "  she  whispered 
to  her  cousin.  "  May  we  not  give  it  him  back  and  buy 
another?" 

"  We  may  not  spend  thy  father's  bounty  twice,  but  we 
can  give  the  pony  and  go  without.  Thy  father  in  that  case 


A  DEBT  TO  THE   ENEMY  31 

loses  his  pleasure  in  the  gift  and  thou  the  practice  in  rid 
ing  he  desired  for  thee ;  but  we  may  consider  of  it." 

"No,"  said  David  sternly,  "Francis  will  get  over  it. 
He  is  the  youngest ;  he  is  not  used  to  being  crossed." 

Francis  had  turned  his  back  to  hide  his  features,  which 
were  not  under  his  control.  But  now,  he  faced  about,  angry 
at  being  discussed.  He  looked  handsomer  than  ever. 

"  4  No  cross,  —  no  crown,'  "  said  the  dominie  kindly. 
"  Thou  art  greatly  privileged,  my  son,  to  be  so  early  called 
to  a  share  in  thy  father's  sacrifice.  I  do  not  agree  with  its 
object,  but  I  hold  that  man  in  honor,  whatsoever  he  pro 
fess,  who  stands  ready  to  be  a  loser  by  his  faith." 

"  I  would  rather  have  Melissa  ;  and  I  do  not  agree  with 
father,  either,"  said  Francis,  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  ground. 

This  was  the  spot  on  the  sun  of  that  day's  happiness, 
long  remembered  by  Honoree  —  the  black  drop  in  her 
cup  of  joy.  But  Francis,  and  his  loss,  was  a  sentiment. 
Melissa  was  a  fact. 

It  was  like  her  guardian,  had  Honoree  but  known  him, 
to  ponder  a  thing  for  weeks,  and  thereafter  in  five  min 
utes  reach  a  decision.  When  Joanna  fretted  over  so  hasty 
a  bargain,  with  the  child's  safety  in  the  balance,  he  merely 
said  that  he  would  take  a  Quaker's  word,  even  in  a  horse- 
trade. 


CHAPTER  V 

OUK  dominie  took  in  the  "  Pennsylvania  Gazette,"  but 
carefully  kept  the  files  in  his  study,  where  often  he  read 
aloud  to  Joanna  the  latest  news  from  the  stricken  border. 
Honoree  could  hear  his  voice  tremble,  and  Joanna's  sharp 
exclamations,  but  if  she  joined  them  the  reading  ceased. 

No  child  could  be  told  the  incidents  of  that  war.  Strong 
men  were  driven  mad  by  the  deaths  their  friends  and  kin 
dred  died.  They  lost  the  power  to  feel  as  human  beings 
toward  the  savages.  Witness  the  Conestoga  murders !  The 
Reverend  John  Elder  of  the  little  church  at  Paxton  had 
been  in  earnest  correspondence  with  Dominie  Deyo  as  to 
this  deed,  for  which  his  wild  flock  was  held  responsible. 
He  believed  they  were  being  condemned  without  a  fair 
hearing. 

That  the  dominie  took  his  friend's  side  in  the  argument 
which  raged  through  the  country  at  this  time  will  appear 
by  his  words  at  his  own  table. 

Friend  Havergal  had  stopped  to  dinner  after  a  morning 
in  the  dominie's  study  on  a  matter  of  private  business. 
Whatever  its  nature  it  was  not  alluded  to  at  table ;  but 
Friend  Havergal  seemed  depressed.  The  untoward  topic 
came  up ;  and  he  spoke  with  bitterness,  the  facts  being  of 
the  kind  that  need  no  pressing  home.  Perhaps  he  did  not 
observe  the  little  girl  listener. 

Honoree  had  never  heard  of  the  Conestoga  murders. 
She  was  spared  the  full  force  of  his  allusions.  But  had 
a  cannon  gone  off  outside  the  window  she  could  not  have 


A   DEBT   TO   THE   ENEMY  33 

been  more  astounded  than  by  her  gentle  cousin's  reply, 
It  was  Presbyterian  against  Quaker  ;  even  with  the  broad 
est  minds,  such  differences  counted  on  the  side  of  prejudice. 

"  You  Quakers  can  forgive  a  red  man  the  sins  of  his 
nature,  but  not  a  white  man  —  crazed  by  the  agonies  he 
has  seen  his  loved  ones  suffer,  both  those  that  died  and 
those  that  could  not  die !  Yet  these  men  who  take  the 
brunt  of  the  Indian  raids  are  very  near  sons  of  the 
Wild,  themselves,  by  training  and  necessity.  Call  them 
fanatics  —  say  they  took  land  not  open  to  settlement.  God 
knows  they  are  paying  the  price.  Others  who  point  at 
their  bloody  hands  will  reap  without  scruple  where  those 
hands  have  sown.  The  best  of  them  it  is  known  are  men 
of  mark :  moral  in  their  lives,  religious,  clean,  and  brave 
as  lions.  But  mad,  driven  beside  themselves  by  deeds  that 
would  shame  the  fiends  in  hell ! 

"  Was  it  not  the  act  of  madmen,  sending  a  wagon-load 
of  their  dead  through  the  streets  of  Philadelphia,  to  con 
vince  the  reluctant  sight  of  those  who  would  deny  the 
truth  of  the  Indian  atrocities  ?  —  who  bought  guns  fast 
enough  when  they  imagined  that  their  own  comfortable 
homes  were  threatened,  but  served  out  only  sermons  to 
the  Presbyterians  fighting  for  their  lives  on  the  border ! " 

Friend  Havergal  listened  with  lips  set.  He  raised  his 
eyes  —  eyes  like  his  son  David's,  full  of  blue  fire.  He 
spoke  amid  a  silence  of  deepest  sensation. 

"  Has  any  heathen  savage  done  a  worse  thing  than  mur 
der  a  camp-mate  sleeping — the  man  who  lies  down  by  his 
side  in  the  woods  alone  ?  Or  put  a  bullet  in  his  back  follow 
ing  his  steps  on  a  peaceful  trail?  So  it  hath  been  done  to 
a  friendly  Indian  by  a  white  trader,  more  than  once  since 


34  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

our  Christian  goverments  have  set  a  price  on  scalps  equal 
to  a  year's  labor  at  the  plough.  Have  not  young  men 
styling  themselves  Ministers  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ  gone 
out  on  these  murder-parties  ?  In  defense  of  English  homes, 
I  hear  thee  say.  Have  not  the  savages  homes,  which  we 
cheat  them  out  of,  robbing  friend  and  foe  alike  ?  And  is 
thee  aware  that  within  this  year  it  was  proposed,  and  the 
plan  approved  by  Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst,  to  send  in  blan 
kets  infected  with  smallpox  to  be  distributed  among  the 
Indian  villages  ?  Is  this  life  so  much  to  a  Christian  be 
liever  that  he  would  preserve  it  at  the  price  of  such  acts 
as  these? 

"  There  be  ways,  as  our  own  people  have  shown,  for 
savage  and  Christian  to  divide  the  wilderness.  We  have 
weak  brothers  amongst  us,  as  there  are  brutal  men  with 
you  ;  but  history  hath  not  shown  the  Friends  to  have  been 
cowards.  Anxiety  for  the  flesh,  and  prejudice,  and  unchari- 
tableness  is  not  my  faith,  more  than  ferocity  and  drunken 
ness  and  cheating  is  thine  !  If  the  holy  experiment  is  to 
be  judged  by  its  failures,  were  it  not  well  that  some  of  you 
look  to  your  own  ?  " 

"  There  is  a  large  beam  in  mine  own  eye,  at  this  moment, 
my  dear  sir,"  the  dominie  responded  instantly,  with  his  old 
serenity  and  cheer.  "  Consider  that  I  cast  it  out !  Woe  to 
that  man  who  having  set  meat  before  a  friend  shall  rob 
him  of  digestion  !  " 

"  Nay,  nay.  This  subject  is  more  than  meat,  and  a  little 
warmth  in  a  good  cause  need  make  no  man's  belly  proud. 
I  move  with  thee,  however,  that  speech  be  discontinued 
between  us  for  the  present,  but  let  our  views  be  exchanged 
on  paper,  if  thee  will  take  so  much  pains.  When  I  can  get 


A   DEBT  TO   THE   ENEMY  35 

my  facts  together  and  set  them  in  order,  I  will  enter  my 
arguments  for  thy  leisure  consideration,  if  thee  will  do  the 
same  for  mine.  I  think  we  stand  for  about  the  best  that  is 
meant  on  both  sides." 

"  Agreed,"  the  dominie  replied ;  "  but  let  us  not  go 
astray  on  the  main  contention  between  us,  which  is  not  one 
of  Christian  theory.  Peace  is  the  end  and  Charity  the  hope, 
with  us  as  with  you.  War  exists  as  death  and  disease  exist. 
We  cut  off  a  man's  leg  that  the  man  may  not  die.  We  do 
not  advocate  the  knife,  nor  let  the  man  die  because  gan 
grene  is  sinful  and  we  wash  our  hands  of  it." 

"  This  is  anticipating  the  feast,"  said  Friend  Havergal 
smiling ;  "  silence  before  meat  is  our  way  of  approaching  the 
gifts  of  our  Maker  ;  and  surely  the  table  where  souls  com 
mune  and  minds  wrestle  for  the  truth  is  set  by  the  Holy 
Spirit.  I  look  forward  to  a  plenteous  repast." 

The  dominie  smiled  and  stretched  his  glass  across  the 
table.  "  To  our  better  understanding  —  with  the  blessing 
of  God ! 

"  And  yet,"  he  added  quaintly,  setting  down  his  empty 
glass,  "  the  longer  you  make  the  legs  of  a  triangle  the 
farther  they  stand  apart.  I  was  young  and  now  am  old,  yet 
never  have  I  seen  that  Quaker  whom  Presbyterian  argu 
ments  had  moved  a  hair's  breadth  from  his  contention,  nor 
that  Presbyterian  who  hath  owned  himself  convinced  —  " 

"  Halt  there,  my  friend !  As  to  that  Presbyterian,  thee 
has  the  more  to  learn.  We,  '  the  people  called  in  scorn 
Quakers,'  have  come  out  of  the  bondage  where  ye  abide. 
We  are  born  of  fathers  who  can  remember  praying  and 
singing  in  your  churches  ;  praying  very  likely  for  the  ar 
mies  of  the  king.  4  Slay  me  these  people  —  these  children 


36  THE   KOYAL   AMERICANS 

of  Moab  !  '  We  prayed  even  as  others,  till  our  minds  were 
opened.  A  tree  does  not  grow  towards  its  root." 

"  We  are  branches  of  the  same  tree,  and  growth  shall 
be  denied  to  none  that  seek  the  Light,  nor  will  God  quench 
one  of  us.  Let  us  praise  him  for  that  one  great  root,  the 
church  of  the  Protestant  martyrs.  Fair  and  goodly  is  our 
heritage." 

The  dominie  extended  his  white  hand  as  the  two  men 
rose  from  the  table.  Friend  Havergal  grasped  it  in  his  that 
was  horny  and  brown. 

"  You,  the  Quakers,  are  the  fighters,  if  we  come  to  it ! 
You  will  be  beaten  never  !  —  except  by  yourselves.  The 
best  argument  we  have  for  war  is  that  the  great  days  of 
every  sect  are  its  fighting  days." 

"  Thy  argument  is  an  argument  for  poverty  and  perse 
cution  and  suffering,  as  the  hotbed  of  great  souls,  and  such 
souls  make  history  for  the  faiths  of  men.  In  the  sense  that 
to  receive  a  blow  is  better  than  to  give  one,  I  agree  as  to 
thy  fighting." 

Quotations  from  the  correspondence  that  ensued  were 
frequent  in  the  dominie's  journal  of  that  winter.  Towards 
spring,  as  the  evenings  grew  shorter  and  farm  work  in 
creased,  the  discussion  appears  to  have  languished. 

But  it  left  a  "  concern  "  on  Friend  Havergal's  retentive 
mind,  brooding  in  solitude,  that  ripened  into  a  fixed  and 
vital  purpose,  fraught  with  trial  to  one  of  his  sons. 


CHAPTER  VI 

IN  the  summer  of  '63  Madam  Schuyler  had  sent  for 
her  godchild  to  visit  her  at  the  Flats,  which  invitation 
included  Joanna,  who  thought  she  could  not  be  spared 
but  was  much  upholden  by  the  remembrance. 

The  dominie  made  ready  to  accompany  his  ward,  when 
news  came  that  the  house  so  rich  in  family  association 
and  famed  for  its  hospitality,  in  a  summer's  hour  was 
burned  to  the  ground ;  Madam  seated  on  the  lawn  calmly 
watching  the  destruction  of  her  home  and  giving  direc 
tions  to  her  servants  which  of  its  treasures  first  to  save. 
Spring  saw  Madam  settled  in  Albany,  but  the  invita 
tion  was  not  renewed.  And  now  this  autumn,  two  years 
later,  brought  the  lost  opportunity  within  reach  again, 
and  again  it  fell  short  of  fulfillment. 

On  the  very  day  Madam  Schuyler's  letter  was  read 
with  such  proud  excitement,  Honoree  "came  down"  with 
the  measles,  and  before  she  was  well  enough  to  have  made 
so  considerable  a  journey,  inclement  weather  set  in. 

Her  father  comforted  her,  saying  that  a  visit  in  the 
spring  would  be  altogether  more  joyous  and  memorable. 
He  could  not  explain  —  she  would  "  see  when  the  time 
came."  So  hope  re-tricked  her  beams  once  more,  and 
visions  of  the  great  visit  beguiled  the  long  winter's  wait 
ing- 
There  was  the  more  time  for  dreaming,  that  the  little 
dreamer  was  not  sent  to  school,  —  her  eyes  not  being  strong 
since  her  sickness,  Joanna  told  her.  She  had  daily  lessons 


38  THE   EOYAL  AMERICANS 

in  her  cousin's  study,  lessons  that  were  talks.  (Ah,  how  the 
cousin  could  talk,  when  they  were  by  themselves,  and  snow 
came  down  and  silenced  the  fields  and  whitened  the  lijrht 

O 

outside !)  The  dominie  wondered  that  his  solitary  pupil 
should  seem  so  content.  She  never  spoke  of  her  big  boy- 
playmate,  who  appeared  to  have  gone  out  of  her  mind  com 
pletely.  Honoree  thought  of  Bassy  often,  but  not  to  miss 
him ;  he  had  no  part  in  her  home  life  except  in  the  dreams. 
She  asked  no  news  of  him,  —  she  did  not  ask  about  the 
sledding  or  the  skating,  or  the  frozen  nests  in  the  hanging 
wood,  where  he  and  she  had  hunted  birds'  eggs  last  spring. 
All  would  be  there  still  when  life  began  once  more. 

But  one  afternoon,  in  the  study's  quiet,  her  thoughts 
came  to  the  surface  :  — 

"I  wonder  who  it  was  Joanna  let  in  one  night  when  I 
was  sick?  Somebody  who  came  in  here,  and  she  ran  up 
and  shut  my  door." 

"  Did  not  Joanna  tell  thee  ?  " 

"  No,  cousin,  she  put  me  off.  Now  why  did  she  ?  I 
guessed  it  was  Bassy  Dunbar.  But  she  would  not  say — " 

"  To  spare  thee  a  disappointment  in  not  seeing  him,  it 
may  be." 

"  Would  he  have  catched  the  measles  of  me  ?  " 

"  That  was  not  thought  of.  Thou  wert  too  ill  to  have 
seen  any  one,  my  littlest." 

"  But  Joanna  might  have  said  it  was  he.  I  could  have 
sent  a  message.  Is  he  gone  back  to  school  yet?  " 

"  He  went  —  yes.  But  he  will  not  return  for  some  time 
it  is  possible.  He  goes  a  journey  to  see  his  father." 

Honoree  waited  for  these  statements  to  clear  themselves. 

"  He  has  gone  to  Fort  Johnson,  which  is  nearest  of  the 


A   DEBT   TO   THE   ENEMY  39 

forts  that  keep  us  safe  down  here.  —  He  goes  to  find  Mr. 
Croghan's  whereabouts,  —  the  surest  way,  he  thinks,  to  find 
his  father." 

"  Does  he  not  know  himself  where  his  father  is?  " 

"  It  appears  not  but  in  a  general  way." 

"  I  wonder  what  has  happened  ?  "  Honoree  said  to  her 
self,  aloud. 

The  dominie  felt  for  his  snuff-box,  sprung  the  lid  open 
and  shut  again  several  times.  He  trotted  one  foot  on  the 
sanded  floor.  The  gritty  sound  always  gave  Honoree 
shivers. 

44  Bassy  thinks  it  no  longer  possible  to  endure  what  he 
meets  with  here  at  school  and  in  the  village.  4  Madam 
Wind  '  hath  been  busy  finding  a  place  '  to  put  her  foot  in.' 
Thou  knowest  that  lady's  tricks !  She  hath  blown  upon  a 
spark  till  it  runs  a  flame,  saying  evil  things  of  Bassy's 
father.  It  is  hard  for  the  boy  here  alone.  So  he  goes  to 
seek  that  father  they  malign  —  perhaps  to  ask  him  to  right 
himself.  He  comes  to  me  for  the  best  way  to  approach  that 
great  man,  Sir  William  Johnson  —  who  is  always  kind, 
but  was  far  from  great  in  one  way  of  speaking  when  I 
knew  him  first.  I  assured  our  Bassy,  though  he  did  not  ask, 
that  I  believe  nothing  of  these  stories  that  run  about." 

44  Could  my  cousin  tell  me  what  Madam  Wind  has 
been  saying?  " 

44  Surely :  but  it  would  not  be  worth  thy  while  to  re 
member." 

44 1  need  not  remember,  but  I  wish  I  knew." 

44  Thou  hast  heard  mention  of  a  Goody  Greathead  who 
lives  in  a  lonesome  spot  and  never  leaves  her  bed  ?  She 
has  suffered  a  loss  of  some  papers  and  money,  that  were 


40  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

kept  in  a  bricked  vault  entered  through  her  bedroom.  Some 
persons  or  person  had  digged  a  passage  underground  and 
picked  a  hole  up  through  the  floor.  'T  was  thought  too  clever 
a  trick  for  any  common  sneak  thief.  Who  could  have  done 
this  ?  it  is  asked.  We  ask  the  next  person,  who  may  have 
heard  some  other  say  that  Bassy's  father  has  been  seen  about 
the  place.  He  is  an  ingenious  man  and  knows  more  about 
the  dame's  earth-cellar  and  other  earthly  things  of  hers 
than  any  save  herself.  Madam  Wind  is  listening  :  Woof ! 
it  goes,  like  ashes  in  a  draft.  We  are  smothered,  we  forget 
who  said  it,  or  what  it  was  that  we  heard,  but  we  repeat  it 
and  add  what  we  cannot  remember.  Little  folk  catch  it 
from  their  elders,  and  when  it  gets  to  the  playground  a 
small  boy  can  cry  '  Son  of  a  Thief  '  and  escape  a  thrashing, 
for  Bassy  does  not  fight  with  little  boys.  He  spanks  them 
in  rows  and  drops  them  over  the  fence,  and  they  gather 
and  stone  him.  And  next,  the  Foolish,  he  marches  in  to 
Master  Geddes  and  to  him  he  says:  — 

" 4  Do  you  think  there  is  the  son  of  a  thief  in  this  school, 
sir?' 

"  And  the  master  hesitates.  Bassy  demands  of  him,  yes 
or  no,  and  gets  for  answer  that  Master  Geddes  has  pity  for 
him  —  does  not  blame  him. 

"  *  Because  my  father  is  a  thief?  Is  that  why  you  pity 
me,  sir  ?  Take  back  your  pity,  and  this  with  it !  and  be 
glad  that  you  will  see  me  here  no  more ! ' 

"  And  he  smites  him  on  either  ear,  as  he  explains,  for 
listening  to  lies,  and  on  the  mouth  for  spreading  them. 

"  It  is  but  just  to  say  in  thy  friend's  defense  that  he 
had  proof  the  master  had  so  done.  But;"  the  dominie 
raised  his  shoulders  slightly,  "  when  the  wine  is  spilt,  of 


A   DEBT  TO   THE   ENEMY  41 

what  use  to  recork  the  bottle  I^Bassy  will  go  to  school  no 
more.  Neither  thou,  my  child  —  to  that  school.  For  where 
they  let  in  Madam  Wind,  folk  who  would  keep  their  eyes 
and  mouths  clear  of  the  smother  she  raises  were  best  out 
side. 

"  Now,  there  's  for  Madam  Wind !  —  and  I  pray  thee 
have  no  commerce  with  that  person,  nor  ever  repeat  about 
another  what  thou  wouldst  not  have  said  about  thyself,  or 
any  whom  thou  lovest." 

A  blankness  fell  on  the  days  to  come.  They  were  to 
have  done  such  things  together,  she  and  Bassy.  The  winter 
sports  they  had  never  shared !  How  much  would  be  wasted 
now! 

Neither  did  she  understand  Bassy's  turning  his  back 
on  the  talkers,  running  away  from  them,  jeered  by  Madam 
Wind,  who  seemed  to  point  a  pliant  finger  and  flirt  her 
blowing  mantle. 

"  If  they  called  thee  a  thief,  my  cousin,"  said  Honoree, 
"  I  wonder  if  I  should  care  ?  " 

"Truly,  I  wonder !  "  said  the  cousin,  looking  at  her  curi 
ously. 

"  It  would  be  like  saying  *  it  rains  '  when  the  sun  was 
shining!  That  person  would  be  laughed  at." 

"  I  have  lived  many  years  in  this  place,  cherie,  and  my 
best  of  fathers  before  me.  Bassy's  father  is  little  known, 
and  much  talked  about  by  inferior  persons.  The  servants 
of  Goody  Greathead  will  have  owed  him  a  grudge.  His 
visits  disturbed  their  plans.  These  tales  having  their  source 
in  the  house  that  was  robbed,  it  gives  them  some  color  to 
begin  with.  I  would  not  say  our  neighbors  talk  more  than 
others." 


CHAPTER  VII 

COLONEL  BRADSTREET'S  good  work  of  that  summer 
ended  with  the  relief  of  Detroit.  Afterward,  he  was  lured 
into  premature  treaty-making,  for  which  he  lacked  authority, 
with  emissaries  of  the  Shawanoes  and  Delawares  who 
turned  out  to  be  a  blind.  In  September  he  lay  sulking  at 
Sandusky,  idle  and  furious  under  a  reprimand  from  Gen 
eral  Gage ;  and  Bouquet,  failing  to  get  any  assistance  out 
of  him,  finished  the  campaign  —  and  practically  the  war  — 
alone. 

In  the  meadows  on  the  Muskingum,  chiefs  of  three 
nations  assembled  to  hear  his  terms.  It  was  in  November 
the  peace-belts  were  exchanged,  and  on  this  occasion  about 
two  hundred  white  captives  were  delivered  to  their  friends : 
for  this  was  the  sternly  insisted  on  demand  for  which  the 
whole  country  blessed  the  hero  of  Bushy  Run. 

Captain  Yelverton's  description  of  this  event  was  shared 
in  the  family  circle,  servants  included.  Every  word  was 
fire  to  his  little  girl's  imagination.  She  forgot  her  own 
self-centred  dreams,  and  went  about  the  house  seeing  a 
real  country  filled  with  living  men  deciding  the  fate  of  a 
doomed  people.  The  great  plateau;  the  roof  of  boughs 
where  her  father  sat  with  Colonel  Bouquet  and  his  officers 
to  receive  the  sullen  war-chiefs ;  the  meadows  stretched  in 
sunlight  where  the  army  was  drawn  up ;  all  the  uniforms 
of  all  the  battalions :  the  tartans  of  the  42d  Highlanders, 
the  scarlet  of  the  Grenadiers  and  of  the  60th  Royal  Amer- 
cans  (she  gloried  in  that  name,  for  her  father's  sake), 


A   DEBT  TO   THE   ENEMY  43 

the  Virginians  in  their  picturesque  hunting-dress,  the 
soberer  colors  of  the  Pennsylvania  Provincials  ;  and  com 
ing  from  the  woods  opposite,  taking  the  centre  of  the 
stage,  the  stately  sachems  and  war-chiefs,  "  looking  neither 
to  the  right  hand  nor  the  left  "  — not  deigning,  under  the 
eyes  of  the  enemy,  to  notice  his  display  of  strength  with 
the  silent  threat  it  conveyed. 

After  Turtle  Heart  of  the  Delawares  had  spoken,  chiefs 
of  the  other  tribes  went  through  the  ceremony  of  concur 
rence,  each  laying  at  the  commander's  feet  a  wampum  belt 
and  a  bundle  of  small  sticks,  to  signify  the  number  of 
prisoners  he  pledged  his  tribe  to  surrender. 

These,  by  Colonel  Bouquet's  demand,  were  to  include 
"  Englishmen,  Frenchmen,  women  and  children,  those 
adopted  into  your  tribes,  married,  or  living  amongst  you 
under  any  denomination  or  pretext  whatsoever." 

What  a  reckoning  of  grief  and  tears !  Fathers,  brothers, 
husbands,  relatives  acting  for  those  too  far  away  or  too 
poor  to  leave  their  homes,  traveled  to  meet  the  army.  A 
passion  of  sympathy  went  out  to  them  on  the  way  with 
offers  of  money  and  food  and  homes  for  the  unclaimed 
among  the  captives.  Hardly  a  frontier  family  but  had  borne 
its  share  through  friends  if  not  members,  in  some  tragedy 
of  the  Indian  wars. 

No  man  could  look  on  with  keener  emotion  than  Cap 
tain  Yelverton,  at  the  heartbreaking  estrangements,  the 
still  more  shocking  recognitions  of  these  scenes,  when  the 
forest  gave  up  its  dead.  But  for  the  mercy  of  God  and  the 
careless  kindness  of  a  young  French  boy,  he  himself  had 
been  one  of  these  haggard  fathers  seeking  in  vain,  or 
dreading  what  he  might  find. 


44  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

In  a  group  of  older  youths  and  girls,  brought  in  like 
wild  animals  tied  to  prevent  their  escape,  some  few  there 
were  whom  no  one  claimed ;  who  knew  not  their  former 
names ;  whom  long  captivity  had  deadened  of  every  mem 
ory  or  association  by  which  their  past  could  be  traced. 
These  were  to  be  provided  for  by  the  provincial  authorities 
or  the  charity  of  individuals. 

Among  them  there  was  one  young  girl,  observed  of  all 
for  some  distinction  aside  from  beauty,  disguised  as  she 
was  by  her  savage  adornments.  It  might  have  been  her 
age  —  she  appeared  about  thirteen.  A  few  years  would 
decide  the  future  of  her  womanhood,  and  the  poor  child 
was  nobly  made.  She  had  come  from  some  tribe  farther 
west,  the  interpreter  explained ;  she  was  an  accident,  a 
freak  of  fate  among  these  prisoners,  who  were  mainly  of 
the  Virginia  and  Pennsylvania  borders. 

Captain  Yelverton  spoke  a  few  simple  words  to  her  in 
French.  Her  face  brightened.  She  laid  a  finger  on  her  lip 
and  shook  her  head,  to  signify  she  could  not  answer  him, 
then  touched  her  ears  and  her  forehead,  nodding  to  show 
that  she  understood  the  sounds. 

"  And  in  the  funniest  little  crooning  voice,"  he  wrote, 
"  smiling  as  if  vastly  pleased  with  herself,  she  started  the 
tune,  if  you  could  call  it  a  tune,  of  '  C'etait  un  vigneron.'  I 
have  heard  our  canoe- men  chant  it  by  the  hour.  The 
words  were  of  no  language,  a  child's  jumble  of  half-remem 
bered  sounds.  It  was  altogether,  considering  her  earnestness 
and  pleasure  in  the  performance,  a  touching  experiment, 
And  here  I  set  up  my  claim ! 

"  A  French  Catholic  saved  my  own  babe,  a  French  Prot 
estant  is  giving  her  a  noble  training.  Therefore,  in  grati- 


A  DEBT  TO  THE   ENEMY  45 

tude  to  God  who  puts  mercy  into  the  hearts  of  men  without 
distinction  of  race  or  religion,  I  lay  my  thank-offering  at 
the  feet  of  France. 

"  For  one  of  these,  the  poorest  surely  of  God's  poor, 
cut  off  from  the  past,  with  no  future  that  owns  them, 
neither  of  the  savages  nor  of  us  —  one  of  these  I  knew 
must  belong  to  me.  Whatever  portion  of  my  means  she  may 
require,  I  devote  to  this  child  of  my  protection ;  and  as  I 
shall  do  by  her,  may  God  so  do  unto  my  child  also ;  and 
whether  she  be  good  or  evil,  I  will  stand  by  her  as  my  own 
flesh  and  blood." 

(  The  dominie's  voice  failed  him ;  Joanna's  tears  fell 
quietly,  thinking  of  old  griefs ;  yet  they  had  not  dried  their 
eyes  before  each  had  begun  secretly  to  fear  the  outcome  of 
this  good  soldier's  vow.  Heart  and  soul  they  were  with 
him  in  taking  it,  but  how  was  he  to  carry  it  out ! 

In  the  next  letter,  written  on  the  homeward  march,  the 
captain's  new  responsibility  was  already  become  a  problem. 

"  I  may  have  to  legally  adopt  this  child,"  he  wrote,  "  and 
give  her  my  name  to  save  her  from  an  anomalous  position. 
For  one  of  her  age  and  ignorance,  it  would  be  the  more 
perilous  that  she  hath  the  promise  of  much  beauty.  Every 
one  remarks  it  now  that  she  is  rid  of  her  Indian  finery, 
and  her  hair  &  skin  cleansed  of  grease.  I  am  fearful  she 
will  be  compromised  by  this  dangerous  gift,  unless  she  be 
placed  where  it  shall  command  respect.  Two  young  men  of 
the  Virginia  Provincials  have  spoke  to  her  of  marriage ; 
one  of  them  is  following  her  still,  and  I  would  be  loth  to 
say  what  might  be  said  of  the  conduct  of  more  than  one 
of  our  own  officers  towards  her;  one  I  could  name,  with 
daughters  in  England  older  than  she.  You  know  what  we 


46  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

are !  I  may  have  to  call  out  some  of  these  gay  old  fellows 
yet. 

"  The  Pennsylvania  Assembly,  the  same  that  so  harassed 
us  with  its  « unnatural  obstinacy,'  our  colonel  calls  it,  hath 
passed  him  a  vote  of  thanks  &  recommends  him  to  the 
King  for  promotion.  It  would  not  be  surprising  if  some 
others  went  up  a  grade  or  two  when  Bouquet  sends  in  his 
report. 

"  I  am  granted  a  few  days'  leave  after  we  reach  Phila 
delphia  which  I  propose  spending  in  New  York  on  some 
private  business.  Shall  take  Charlotte  with  me.  What  say 
you  to  having  her  baptized  Charlotte  Sophia,  after  our 
good  queen  ?  Charlotte  sounds  well  either  in  French  or 
Dutch  or  English.  I  shall  put  her  in  care  of  one  of  Mr. 
Philip  Schuyler's  supercargoes  and  send  her  up  to  Albany 
to  the  generous  friend  who  succored  my  own  child.  Madam 
Schuyler  approves  what  I  have  done  but  is  puzzled  how  I 
am  to  carry  on  my  guardianship  without  a  wife  to  help  me. 
I  have  hinted  a  mother  were  as  good ;  and  she  has  been 
that  to  me.  She  replies  that  her  years  gain  upon  her ;  she 
has  nieces  and  nephews,  a  great  store  of  young  relatives 
who  take  up  her  mind  ;  she  may  not  extend  her  vicarious 
motherhood  beyond  its  present  scope,  or  in  new  &  peculiar 
ventures.  And  she  disagrees  with  me  as  to  the  station  in 
life  suited  to  my  young  charge.  In  her  opinion  it  were 
better  she  be  given  a  plainer  start,  beginning  with  house 
work  and  the  catechism,  which  in  my  judgement  would 
drive  her  back  to  the  wilderness.  Madam,  however,  offers 
her  house  as  a  present  refuge  ;  what  I  may  decide  as  to  the 
child's  future  will  depend  on  certain  matters  in  New  York 
which  I  am  not  now  prepared  to  speak  of. 


A  DEBT  TO  THE  ENEMY  47 

"  Have  you,  sir,  any  advice  of  your  own  to  offer  on  this 
question  ?  It  is  likely  to  be  a  serious  one,  as  serious  as 
my  heartfelt  intention  was,  and  is,  toward  this  helpless 
being." 

Here  was  an  opportunity  more  than  hinted  at  for  the 
dominie  to  repeat  his  unselfish  experiment  in  fatherhood. 
His  confidant,  the  journal,  reveals  a  struggle  in  his  mind, 
but  he  did  not  put  himself  in  the  way  of  further  responsi 
bility,  nor  did  he,  it  is  probable,  offer  much  advice.  Like 
Madam  Schuyler,  he  was  feeling  his  years.  He,  too, 
would  have  needed  a  woman's  help  in  such  an  undertak 
ing,  and  he  knew  that  Joanna  with  all  her  rugged  virtues 
was  not  fitted  for  the  task. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

IN  the  dominie's  front  dooryard  his  Morella  cherry 
trees  were  parting  with  their  "perishable  crowns."  For 
over  a  week  they  had  kept  the  feast  of  beauty.  Now  every 
light  wind  drove  a  fairy  storm  of  petals  from  the  bough. 
Flights  of  perfumed  drift  blew  into  the  entry  door,  and 
Joanna  was  careless  of  sweeping  them  out.  She  and  Gulie 
and  Tob,  laden  with  bundles,  made  journeys  in  turn  from 
the  house  to  the  chaise  at  the  gate  being  packed  for  the 
long  drive  to  Rondout.  Nor  did  Joanna  forget,  in  doing 
up  her  parcels  of  goodies,  the  fresh  breezy  sloop- voyage  to 
follow,  up  through  the  Middle  Grounds  to  Albany. 

Honoree  took  her  farewells  contentedly.  In  a  few  weeks 
—  too  few,  she  feared  —  Joanna  would  come  to  fetch 
her  home  from  Madam  Schuyler's.  (She  was  going  up  in 
care  of  Mistress  Van  Wagenen,  wife  of  Master  Van 
Wagenen  of  the  sloop  Lorenzo  Douw.)  No  one  told  her 
that  the  home  journey  would  extend  itself,  without  stop 
ping,  from  Albany  to  England.  Captain  Yelverton  had 
made  up  his  mind,  but  he  thought  it  too  soon  to  broach  a 
plan  so  largely  at  the  mercy  of  circumstance.  The  dominie 
differed  from  him.  Perhaps  for  his  own  sake  he  would 
have  liked  to  see  what  these  moments  might  say  to  the 
child  in  their  fullest  significance. 

They  traveled  toward  the  river  by  a  road  unknown  to 
Honoree  beyond  a  few  of  its  nearest  miles.  (The  same  that 
Joanna  had  carried  her  over,  an  infant  in  search  of  a  home.) 
As  the  strange  woods  closed  around  them,  the.child  became 


A   DEBT  TO   THE   ENEMY  49 

silent ;  her  face  had  a  flush  and  her  eyes  a  light  of  rapture. 
The  good  cousin  drove  on  as  silent  as  she,  —  another  silence 
that  was  very  tender  of  her  own.  If  his  eyes  grew  a  trifle 
moist  at  times,  it  might  have  been  the  wind  which  met 
them  freshly  as  rise  after  rise,  obscured  by  trees,  lifted 
them  out  of  the  valley. 

When  they  came  to  the  first  farmhouse  on  Stone 
Ridge,  the  town  of  Kingston  below  them  sparkling  in  the 
westering  sun,  he  roused  and  said :  — 

"  My  little  one  will  take  a  message  from  me  to  Madam 
Schuyler?  It  is  to  repeat  my  particular  thanks  for  her 
kindness  and  pains  in  regard  to  our  young  friend  Bassy 
Dunbar,  and  to  say  I  have  the  best  accounts  of  him." 

Honoree  looked  up  quickly.  "  Will  Bassy  be  in  Al 
bany?" 

"Nay  he  is  at  Schuyler's  Mills,  a  long  way  north  of  us." 
The  dominie  waved  his  whip  over  toward  the  Catskills. 
"  Madam  hath  procured  him  a  place  up  there  under  the 
boumeister  on  her  nephew's  estate.  He  will  learn  all  the 
steps  from  the  forest  to  the  farm  —  and  the  troubles  that 
come  between.  He  may  even,  if  he  have  the  wit,  find  his 
way  to  a  mansion  like  Colonel  Philip's  new  one  in  Al 
bany,  and  a  village  like  Schuylerville  on  his  own  lands." 

But  Honoree  sighed  over  this  turn  in  her  friend's  affairs. 
When  last  heard  from  (her  cousin  had  got  a  letter  about 
Christmas)  Bassy  and  his  father  were  setting  out  with 
Mr.  Croghan's  peace  mission,  escorted  by  soldiers,  into 
Pontiac's  very  country,  bearing  presents  to  soften  the 
tribes  that  still  held  out,  and  to  gather  up  certain  white 
prisoners  for  whom  hostages  were  held  at  Fort  John 
son. 


50  THE   ROYAL   AMEEICANS 

This  journey  had  entered  strongly  into  the  dreams,  nor 
had  the  blank  that  followed  caused  impatience.  Her  cousin 
had  said  they  would  not  be  "  out "  till  spring.  And  now 
Bassy  had  turned  his  back  on  romance  and  martial  peace 
missions,  and  was  going  to  work  like  any  Dutch  boy,  at 
Schuyler's  Mills ! 

"  But  does  n't  he  want  to  be  with  his  father  —  so  much 
trouble  to  find  him,  and  all?" 

"  His  father,  my  dear  —  Isaac  Dunbar  —  is  —  he  is  not 
living.  I  did  not  speak  of  it  to  thee  when  Bassy's  second 
letter  came.  His  death  was  sudden.  It  was  in  consequence 
of  a  singular  misadventure  that  befell  the  expedition.  Thou 
knowest  what  it  was  they  started  out  for  ?  Mr.  Croghan's 
party  had  nothing  to  do  with  trade.  Yet  there  were  seventy 
pack-mules  in  his  train,  and  more  awaiting  him  at  Fort 
Loudon.  Presents  to  that  amount  the  borderers  refused  to 
believe  in.  They  suspected  that  trade  was  beginning  in 
secret  with  the  tribes  at  their  back,  before  peace  was  quite 
assured.  Even  they  accused  Mr.  Croghan  of  an  interest  in 
those  goods. 

"  '  This,'  said  they,  '  means  powder  and  bullets  to  fit 
out  Indian  war-parties,  to  come  and  murder  us  in  spring.' 

"  These  people  do  not  stop  to  argue.  They  blacked 
their  faces  and  dressed  themselves  like  savages  —  and  am 
bushed  that  offending  pack-train  at  a  place  called  Sidling 
Hill. 

"  Bassy's  father  had  the  luck,  as  he  thought,  to  be  one 
of  those  private  persons  favored  by  Mr.  Croghan.  He 
had  a  rich  stake  in  goods  going  in  to  skim  the  cream  of 
the  market  before  the  rush  began  —  these  points  have  a 
significance  I  am  unable  to  explain  to  thee,  little  one. 


A  DEBT  TO  THE   ENEMY  61 

Bassy's  letter  told  the  story  very  well,  very  justly  all  con- 
sidered,  for  a  lad  of  his  age. 

"  The  traders  were  ordered  to  unload  their  stuff  on  that 
wild,  snow-covered  steep.  There  was  a  terrible  turmoil 
of  that  unpacking  —  many  frightened  animals  plunging 
and  struggling.  Bassy's  father  was  struck  down  in  the 
melee  —  "  The  dominie  drew  a  breath.  —  "  He  was  — 
fatally  injured  in  some  way.  But  there  was  no  bloodshed. 
Every  kindness  was  shown  the  dying  man.  The  mountain 
eers  took  Bassy  to  their  homes.  They  gave  him  back  his 
father's  beasts  and  equipage.  They  would  have  made  him 
one  of  their  band,  and  the  boy  in  his  loneliness  was 
minded  at  first  to  stay  and  cast  in  his  lot  with  them.  But 
I  am  glad  to  say  he  waited  for  advice.  He  carries  too 
broad  a  head  on  his  shoulders  to  use  it  like  the  Paxton 
men,  to  stop  Indian  bullets  with. 

"Now,  wilt  thou  not  forget  my  message  to  Madam 
Schuyler?  Not  the  first  day,  but  some  seasonable  time 
when  she  may  recall  our  Bassy's  name.  She  is  a  lady 
of  many  benefactions.  More  good  deeds  pass  out  of  her 
mind  from  day  to  day  than  most  of  us  can  lay  to  our 
credit  in  a  lifetime." 

But  the  dominie  had  lost  his  listener.  They  had  climbed 
the  last  ridge  overlooking  the  river.  Below  them,  half  in 
shadow,  half  in  gleam,  lay  the  bending  flood.  A  line  of 
hills  to  the  east  borrowed  along  their  heights  the  flush  of 
a  spring  sunset  that  spent  its  brief  moment  in  hurried, 
hectic  splendor.  A  single  lazy  sail  drifted  past  the  gleam 
into  the  night  shadows  inshore. 

"  That  must  be  the  Lorenzo  making  her  landfall,"  said 
the  dominie. 


52  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

A  voice  at  his  elbow  sighed  in  ecstacy,  "  the  river,  the 
river !  Oh,  cousin ! " 

Eight  —  going  on  nine  —  years  the  little  girl  had  lived 
and  flourished  within  thirty  miles  of  it  and  never  could  say 
she  had  seen  the  Hudson.  Children  in  those  days  were 
taught  to  wait. 


BOOK  II 

THE  GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  Lorenzo  beat  up  against  light  head  winds,  feeling 
her  way  over  the  shoals  of  the  Middle  Grounds,  the  Scylla 
and  Charybdis  of  the  old  North  River  sloop  captains.  In 
"two  ebbs  and  a  flood"  —  and  flood- tides  are  weak  in 
spring,  meeting  the  freshets  of  the  upper  Hudson  —  she 
tied  up  at  her  Albany  berth  about  supper-time,  as  the  cows 
of  the  leading  citizens  were  strolling  home  from  pasture. 
The  city  at  this  date  was  still  half  country ;  every  house 
had  its  garden,  well,  and  shade  trees.  The  water-front  was 
lined  with  greenery  between  the  shore  and  the  long,  wide 
street  that  ran  parallel,  with  wooden  docks  strutting  out 
on  piles;  the  Lorenzo  lay  up  in  one  of  the  slips  between, 
that  smelled  of  fresh-water  mud  at  low  tide.  She  carried 
a  cargo  of  Ulster  County  flagstones,  and  hemlock  bark 
for  the  tanneries.  A  monster  sturgeon  lay  flapping  and 
heaving  on  her  forward  deck. 

On  the  passage  up,  Vrow  Van  Wagenen  had  watched 
the  little  girl  studying  this  big  fish  by  the  hour.  She  heard 
them  speak  of  it  as  "  Albany  beef,"  or  so  many  barrels  of 
sturgeon  oil.  To  her  it  was  Leviathan  in  chains.  She  saw 
nothing  humorous  or  common  or  commercial  in  its  vast, 
slow-dying  bulk.  A  spike  as  thick  as  an  oar  was  thrust 
through  its  jaws.  Men  kicked  it  in  passing,  with  their 
clumsy  boots.  Great  fins,  marvelously  made  as  a  butter 
fly's  wing,  slowly  fanned  the  monster's  agony.  That  mighty 
engine,  its  tail,  swung  to  and  fro  on  the  planks,  slippery 
with  its  blood,  like  the  rudder  of  an  abandoned  boat. 


56  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

Once,  when  no  one  saw  her,  the  child  laid  her  hand 
softly  on  its  armor-plated  side.  Was  there  any  feeling  in 
that  huge,  dark-stained  case,  fretted  in  patterns  like  an 
Indian  carving  ?  The  life  in  it  was  so  strong,  yet  so  far 
to  reach. 

"  '  His  heart  is  as  firm  as  a  stone ;  yea,  as  hard  as  a  piece 
of  the  nether  millstone,'  "  she  whispered. 

This  dying  gladiator  of  the  deep,  captured  between  the 
narrow  hills,  remained  in  the  child's  memory  as  the  most 
striking  feature  of  her  first  journey  from  home.  It  sym 
bolized  the  tragedy  which  is  put  the  other  way  for  children, 
always,  in  the  fairy-tales,  of  dumb,  insuperable  strength 
turned  through  artifice  to  nothingness. 

You  could  "  draw  out  Leviathan  with  an  hook."  You 
could  bind  him  for  your  maidens  !  You  could  walk  past 
"  the  terrible  doors  of  his  face,"  and  thrust  at  them  with 
a  cowhide  shoe ! 

When  Master  Van  Wagenen  dropped  anchor  in  a  for 
eign  port,  his  sloop  was  his  hotel.  The  wife  did  not  go 
ashore  that  evening ;  she  was  satisfied  to  see  her  husband 
properly  dress  himself  before  landing  to  escort  his  little 
passenger  up  to  Madam  Schuyler's  door.  Not  unlikely  he 
might  have  a  chance  to  enter  that  mansion.  His  purse- 
shaped,  striped  cap,  that  dangled  over  one  shoulder  in 
piratical  fashion,  was  changed  for  a  cocked  beaver,  his 
watch  coat  and  yarn  hose  rolled  up  over  his  knees,  for  a  good 
cloth  suit,  albeit  homespun,  and  shoes  with  steel  buckles. 

Job  Taylor,  the  new  deck-hand,  already  ashore  with 
Honoree's  box  and  parcels  on  a  wheelbarrow,  was  so  un 
prepared  for  the  transformation  wifely  vanity  had  effected 
in  the  old  man's  familiar  figure,  that  he  took  off  his  hat  to 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT  57 

him  respectfully  as  to  a  stranger;  an  inadvertence  that 
shook  the  deep  sides  of  the  jolly  sloop-master  with  pump- 
ings  of  inward  laughter. 

The  wide  street  they  were  climbing  showed  a  few  lamps 
and  lights  in  houses,  though  it  was  but  little  after  sunset. 
Above  this  street  loomed  the  outworks  of  the  old  fort  on 
a  higher  hill,  and  side  streets  ran  out  between  lanes  and 
gardens  where  spring  bonfires  winked  in  the  dusk  through 
a  smother  of  pearly  smoke  blown  along  the  ground.  There 
were  blossoms  on  the  orchard  trees,  less  advanced  than 
those  of  the  Wallkill. 

Turning  up  a  street  of  brick  houses  parallel  to  the  river, 
they  came  to  high  gabled  fronts,  and  deep  doorways  with 
lamps  hung  over  them,  and  stoops  where  young  people 
sat  out  on  the  steps  talking  and  laughing,  or  catching  up 
songs  in  chorus  with  other  singers  on  neighboring  stoops. 

From  one  of  these  a  young  girl  ran  down  the  steps,  stared 
after  our  traveler  a  second,  and  then  gave  chase  calling, 
"  Catherine,  Catherine  Yelverton,  wait  for  me !  " 

"  Is  Polly  Watts  gone  crazy  ?  "  they  were  asking  each 
other  on  the  stoop. 

A  voice  in  a  Dutch  accent  answered :  "  Did  you  hear 
that  name  she  was  screaming  ?  " 

Honoree  had  turned  at  the  light-heeled  step  and  rustle 
of  silks  behind  her  ;  she  saw  a  lovely  girl  running  into  the 
arms  of  the  wind  that  tossed  her  buoyant  petticoats  about, 
and  lifted  the  lace  cap-frills  from  the  piled  dark  hair 
dressed  back  from  a  charming,  laughing  face. 

The  little  procession  halted.  Job  wheeled  his  barrow 
neatly  aside  as  the  young  lady  rushed  past  him  to  clasp 
"  Catherine  "  in  her  arms. 


58  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  Hah !  did  n't  I  know  that  cloak  and  hat  though  !  "  was 
her  inexplicable  greeting.  "  Have  you  just  come  ashore  ? 
and  who  is  this  with  you  ?" 

Master  Van  Wagenen  introduced  himself,  bowing 
stoutly. 

"  And  is  this  her  baggage  behind  us  ?  " 

"  It  is,  lady.  Job  Taylor  it  is  fetches  it  already.  A 
good  boy,  but  slow.  I  haf  him  —  " 

"  Well,  let  him  follow  us,  and  we  need  not  trouble  you 
the  rest  of  the  way,  Master  Van  Wagenen.  Best  thanks 
for  taking  such  good  care  of  her.  She  is  with  friends 
now." 

"  Oh,  I  vas  baid,  I  vas  veil  baid.  Und  she  vas  no  drou- 
bles  all  the  time.  The  young  lady  will  be  some  relations 
with  Madam  Schuyler  ?  " 

"  You  may  be  quite  easy,  Master  Van  Wagenen.  We 
are  all  relations  here.  Good-night  to  you,  and  a  good  voy 
age  home." 

With  a  smile  and  nod  not  to  be  mistaken  even  by  Mas 
ter  Van  Wagenen,  the  imperative  young  lady  dispensed 
with  his  further  company.  The  child,  though,  slipped  back 
to  say  her  own  farewell,  and  to  be  surprised  and  incom 
moded  by  a  hug  which  lifted  her  off  the  sidewalk. 

"  Ach,  little  one  !  I  hope  I  haf  you  my  passenger  when 
you  come  down  again  once." 

"  Now  we  are  rid  of  that  snuffy  old  Dutchman,  I  shall 
run  back  and  say  good-by  to  my  hostess.  Will  she  come 
too  ?  Better  not,  perhaps.  I  can  get  away  from  them  sooner 
alone.  How  I  want  to  see  thee,  child !  " 

With  a  quick  kiss,  as  though  she  kissed  as  easily  as  she 
talked  and  laughed,  this  wonderful  new  friend  ran  back  to 


THE  GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT  59 

the  house  she  had  just  left.  Job  sat  down  on  the  handle 
of  his  wheelbarrow. 

Could  this  possibly  be  Charlotte  ?  thought  Honoree  (or 
"Catherine,"  she  is  to  be  now).  That  mysterious  figure 
in  the  future  of  her  life,  hoped  for  with  ardent  curiosity, 
yet  half-dreaded,  as  a  stranger  already  occupying  a  larger 
share  of  her  own  father's  thoughts  than  seemed  quite  nat 
ural.  Her  papa  had  said  that  Charlotte  was  remarked  by 
every  one  for  her  beauty.  Could  such  a  magic  change 
from  savagery,  in  other  ways,  take  place  in  six  months  ? 

Lights  broke  out  in  the  windows  of  the  house  with  the 
stoop,  where  Catherine  heard  much  loud  and  merry  "  clatch- 
ing."  Her  friend  was  not  getting  away  so  soon,  after  all. 

Now  she  came,  though,  waving  back  two  young  gentle 
men  who  seemed  inclined  to  follow  her. 

"  Not  to-night  —  a  thousand  thanks  !  To-morrow,  or 
any  night !  We  have  been  a  long  journey ;  we  are  tired." 

"To-night  it  is  &  family  party,  eh?"  one  of  the  two 
retorted,  laughing.  There  was  more  laughing  when  they 
rejoined  the  group  on  the  steps. 

"  They  tease  me  because  I  take  possession  of  thy  father's 
little  daughter.  Now  tell  me  who  am  I  that  assert  my 
rights  in  this  high  and  mighty  fashion  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  guess,"  whispered  Catherine.  "  No  one  hath 
spoke  of  my  seeing  here  any  one  but  Madam  —  and  Char 
lotte." 

"  Who  ?  Oh,  that !  —  WeU,  I  am  not  Charlotte  —  nor 
thy  grandmother,  sweet !  Who  should  it  be  that  knew 
that  scarlet  cloak  and  white  French  beaver  as  far  as  I 
could  see  thee  coming  ?  Who;**  did  thy  father  say  chose 
them  for  him  ?  " 


60  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  He  said  't  was  a  lady  that  dressed  in  the  highest  taste," 
Catherine  quoted  conscientiously. 

"  4  A  lady ! '  And  was  that  all  he  said  ?" 

"  I  can  remember  no  more,"  said  Catherine. 

"  Well,  well,  here 's  discretion  for  us  !  But  what  is  thy 
own  opinion  ?  Behold  the  lady  herself  !  Does  the  fashion 
of  her  please  thee  ?  " 

Catherine  blushed,  helplessly  happy.  "Perhaps  my 
papa  did  not  know  you  would  be  here." 

"  Oh,  he  knew !  But 't  is  all  one.  I  knew  his  little  Cath 
erine,  and  she  must  know  Polly  Watts  and  learn  to  love 
her,  for  I  am  one  of  thy  father's  best  friends,  I  warn  thee, 
even  though  he  never  speaks  of  me. 

"  Here  we  come  now  to  Aunt  Schuyler's,  and  that  is  the 
guard-house  opposite  ;  and  there  is  Caesar's  black  face  peep 
ing  at  us  through  the  side-light." 

Directly  he  opened  the  door,  CaBsar,  the  black  man  in 
livery,  was  given  orders  about  Miss  Yelverton's  box,  that 
moment  arriving  per  wheelbarrow.  "  Have  it  put  in  my 
dressing-closet,  tell  Amanda." 

A  dark,  slim  young  gentleman  had  entered  the  hall  by 
a  door  at  the  foot  of  the  staircase.  Excepting  her  father 
in  his  best  bravery,  Catherine  had  seen  no  such  fine  speci 
men  of  the  dress  and  carriage  belonging  to  the  class  that 
mirrored  fashion  for  the  Colonies.  Philip  Schuyler  was  but 
lately  home  from  England,  with  the  foundation  of  a  great 
experience  and  many  little  social  hints  a  young  man  would 
gather.  At  the  moment,  he  looked  like  an  amiable  person 
willing  to  be  interrupted,  who  finds  the  interruption  pleas- 
anter  than  expected.  He  had  a  pipe  between  his  teeth  and 
an  open  book  in  one  hand. 


THE   GKEAT  ALBANY   VISIT  61 

Seeing  Miss  Watts,  he  removed  the  pipe  and  laid  the 
book  against  his  heart,  bowing  with  playfully  exaggerated 
ceremony. 

"  Now  this  I  call  a  cheat !  To  let  me  go  out  to  tea  and 
not  be  told  our  distinguished  traveler  was  coming !  Why, 
you  look  as  if  you  were  all  stark  alone,  cousin  Philip !  " 

"  My  looks  do  not  deceive  you,  cousin  Polly,  if  you  leave 
out  Doctor  Desauglier." 

He  waved  the  doctor's  "  Experimental  Philosophy  "  at 
the  girl,  who  waved  it  back  again. 

"  But  where  is  everybody  !  Is  not  Kitty  with  you  ?  " 

"  She  is  not.  You  have  missed  nothing  but  the  learned 
doctor  and  myself  ;  and  some  talk  on  business  with  Aunt 
Schuyler.  She  is  sleeping  off  the  effects,  like  a  sensible  old 
lady." 

"  Well !  I  have  brought  a  fine  surprise  for  aunt.  A 
darling,  a  lovesome  —  make  thy  best  '  cheese '  to  my 
great  cousin  Philip  —  Colonel  Schuyler — Caterina." 

While  Miss  Polly  Watts  rattled  away,  the  cousin's  gaze 
passed  from  her  own  rosy,  laughing  face  to  one  rosier  but 
more  shy,  with  dark,  excited  eyes  lifted  to  his  as  he  raised 
the  child  from  her  deep  curtsy,  keeping  the  little  hand  in 
his  own. 

"  Is  this  the  surprise  ?  —  a  '  prize,'  I  would  swear  !  You 
bring  her  into  port  most  handsomely,  with  your  colors  at 
her  peak.  But  where  was  she  captured  ?  " 

"  On  the  '  highways  of  commerce,'  cousin  Philip.  In  my 
very  arms  I  swept  her  up.  She  is  mine,  except  she  is  her 
father's  —  Captain  Yelverton  —  and  was  fetched  to  this 
very  door  in  her  nurse's  arms,  eight  years  —  how  old  art 
thou,  lambkin  ?  " 


62  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

"  Nay,  it  was  the  Flats,  I  remember  it  well,"  said  Philip 
Schuyler.  His  eyes  and  smile  betokened  a  recollection  that 
moved  him  still. 

"  Time  has  done  much  for  the  captain's  little  Ameri 
can.  But  why  is  she  adrift  on  the  streets  of  Albany,  to  be 
snatched  by  a  free-booting  Polly  ?  " 

"  Dropped  here  at  sundown.  The  respectable  Lorenzo 
Douw  brought  her  up  from  Rondout  Landing.  And  /  am 
the  author  of  those  clothes  !  Rondout  forsooth !  Rondout 
never  saw  the  equal  of  that  hat.  Let  us  take  her  in  to  aunt. 
Did  you  leave  her  in  the  dining-room  ?  " 

"  Soft  —  yes  !  The  dear  lady  was  dozing  very  peaceful." 

Philip  Schuyler  was  regarded  by  Madam  quite  as  a  son. 
Fatherless  from  childhood,  the  Flats  had  been  one  of  his 
homes.  He  had  married  his  "  sweet  Kitty  V.  R."  with  the 
courage  of  that  simple  age,  —  not  when  he  was  ready  but 
when  he  wanted  to,  —  and  had  gone  on  being  a  father  and 
making  money  and  getting  an  education  at  home  and 
abroad.  He  was  now  an  old  fellow  of  thirty-three,  looked 
up  to  in  rallying  fashion  by  ambitious  little  cousins  like 
Miss  Watts,  who  were  eager  to  step  out  for  themselves. 

The  charming  smile  he  fixed  upon  Catherine  had  some 
thing  reflective  in  it.  No  doubt,  after  the  manner  of  par 
ents,  he  was  comparing  her  height  and  color  with  that  of 
his  Elizabeth  (who  was  to  grow  up  and  marry  Alexander 
Hamilton),  or  his  Margaret,  who  was  to  save  her  father's 
life  by  her  presence  of  mind  from  Tory  assassins  in  his 
own  house. 

Caesar  opened  a  door  across  the  hall,  and  stood  beside 
it  while  Colonel  Schuyler,  with  his  cousin  on  his  arm,  and 
Catherine  holding  Polly's  hand,  passed  in  quietly. 


CHAPTER  X 

CANDLES  were  burning  on  a  mahogany  lowboy  against 
the  wainscot  of  a  dark-ceiled  room,  but  Madam's  face  was 
seen  more  by  the  remaining  light  from  a  western  window 
next  the  chimney-piece,  toward  which  her  chair  had  been 
moved  from  the  tea-table. 

Her  head,  in  a  majestic  cap  with  a  black  ribbon  round 
the  crown,  was  bent  forward,  her  hands  extended  peace 
fully  on  the  chair-arms ;  her  chin  was  sunk  in  the  folds 
of  a  lace  neckerchief  crossed  over  her  large,  old  woman's 
bosom,  that  rested  on  the  corresponding  eminence  beneath. 

Catherine  at  first  was  disappointed  in  this  revered 
agent  of  so  many  personal  destinies,  to  see  only  an  elderly 
woman  with  rather  heavy  features,  whose  corpulence  filled 
an  armchair  of  the  largest  dimensions.  But  when  Madam 
raised  her  cap-crowned  head,  sighed,  and  opened  her 
dark,  penetrating  eyes  with  that  look  in  them  of  saddened 
power,  and  smiled  her  sovereign  smile  that  comprehended 
the  whole  group  with  its  quiet,  sustained  kindness,  the 
little  girl  knew  that  this  was  the  first  great  lady  she  had 
ever  seen.  She  fitted,  to  the  eye  of  an  artist,  the  peaceful, 
dignified  room,  with  its  details  of  homely  comfort,  and 
its  rich,  repressed  atmosphere  of  the  past.  The  row  of 
carved,  high-backed  chairs  against  the  shadowy  wainscot 
belonged  to  the  period  of  the  portraits  on  the  walls.  Not 
a  romantic,  hardly  a  handsome  face  among  them,  but  as 
real  as  the  firm,  hard  touch  of  the  painter  could  make 
them ;  men  who  would  not  have  been  flattered  to  be  pret- 


64  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

tified ;  keen,  large-brained,  tolerant,  wise  in  the  wisdom 
of  the  world,  strong  in  administration,  sure  in  finance, 
honest  in  diplomacy,  generous  in  friendship,  faithful  to 
family  and  religion. 

Madam  knew  that  she  came  of  good  stock ;  her  great 
grief  was  that  she  could  not  help  to  perpetuate  it  in  children 
of  her  own.  But  there  was  her  nephew  Philip,  as  devoted 
as  a  son,  who  had  no  parents  of  his  own  to  be  proud  of  him 
in  his  great  promise. 

"  Aunt  Schuyler,  we  have  brought  you  a  little  visitor. 
Will  you  give  her  your  blessing  on  her  coming  amongst 
us?" 

Philip  made  his  speech  a  little  long,  purposely,  seeing 
that  Madam's  eyes  were  still  drowsy. 

"  What  was  that  sound  in  the  street,  a  rumbling  like  a 
gun-carriage  passing  ?  Did  I  dream  it  ?  I  must  have  just 
lost  myself,  before  you  came  in." 

"  You  may  have  heard  the  wheelbarrow  coming  up  the 
walk,  with  your  godchild's  trunk  from  the  Landing." 

"  She  came  by  the  packet-sloop  from  Rondout,  just  in 
to-night,"  PoUy  explained  further. 

"  My  godchild  ?  "  Madam  smiled  while  she  collected 
herself.  She  was  many  times  a  godmother,  and  her  god 
children  were  in  divers  parts  of  the  temporal  kingdom. 
Rondout,  however,  placed  this  one. 

"  Why,  it  must  be  Catherine  Yelverton.  Bless  thy  little 
heart !  I  could  not  remember  thy  face,  but  thou  art  dearly 
welcome,  child." 

She  gave  her  hand  to  be  kissed,  in  a  black  lace  mitt,  — • 
the  finger-nails  ridged  and  a  trifle  discolored  with  snuff, 
if  truth  be  told,  —  but  Catherine's  reverence  as  she  touched 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY   VISIT  65 

it  with  her  soft  mouth  was  not  custom.  Madam  could  make 
children  love  her  with  one  of  her  smiles,  and  other  persons, 
occasionally,  fear  her  with  the  strong  look  of  her  wonder 
ful  eyes  that  went  with  it. 

"  My  godchild  must  be  hungry."  The  same  idea  had 
occurred  to  the  black  butler,  who  lingered  for  his  orders, 
smiling.  "  No  tea,  I  think,  to-night,  my  dear.  A  little  hot 
spiced  wine  will  be  better  and  a  breast  of  chicken  or  a  quail. 
Are  there  any  cold  birds  left,  Ca3sar  ?  " 

"And  guava  jelly,  Caesar,  and  a  piece  of  honey  cake," 
added  Polly. 

"  And  a  pot  of  schmeer-kaase  with  clotted  cream,"  put 
in  Philip  joyously. 

"Thou  art  'journey-proud/  as  they  say,"  Madam  re 
marked,  seeing  that  with  all  the  delicious  food  set  before 
her  on  the  supper-tray,  with  candles  in  tall  silver  candle 
sticks  on  either  side,  lending  ceremony  to  the  feast,  the  child 
was  too  excited  to  eat.  She  liked  her  silent,  bright-eyed 
little  guest,  and  said  to  her  nephew  aside,  while  Polly  was 
holding  her  attention  with  caressing  chatter,  "  I  wonder 
where  she  gets  that  type  of  face  ?  You  see  she  does  not  look 
English,  and  yet,  she  is  English,  root  and  branch." 

"  She  is  one  of  our  choice  variants.  The  old  race-types 
re-create  themselves,  transplanted  on  this  new  soil.  You 
can  see  it  likewise  in  our  Dutch  blood." 

"  I  see  it  in  my  nieces,"  said  Madam.  "  Something  in 
this  air  of  the  West  models  the  noses  and  lessens  the  jaw, 
puts  more  light  into  the  eyes  and  more  nerves  into  our  big 
Dutch  bodies.  But  they  will  not  last  as  we  have.  In 
streaks,  perhaps,  here  and  there,  but  they  will  not  last." 

"  Other  streaks  will  come  in  and  strengthen  them." 


66  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

"  Ah,  Philip,  my  son,  thou  art  an  American.  I  am  an 
old  Dutchwoman." 

Turning  to  Catherine,  she  said  abruptly,  "  I  am  sorry 
to  hear  they  have  made  thy  name  into  Honoree.  Catherine 
sounds  much  better  with  Yelverton.  And  thy  mother's 
name  should  not  be  put  aside  for  a  stranger's.  We  shall 
call  thee  in  this  house  —  Catherine.  Thou  wilt  call  me 
Aunt,  and  my  nephew  Philip  will  be  thy  cousin  Philip, 
and  this  young  lady  — " 

"  Aunt  dear !  Must  I  be  a '  young  lady'  to  her  ?  "  Miss 
Polly's  interruption  was  calmly  put  aside. 

"  — will  be  your  cousin  Polly.  Now  we  shall  feel  at 
home." 

Catherine  took  a  deep  breath  and  looked  at  Madam 
earnestly. 

"  Is  —  Charlotte,  papa's  French  girl,  here,  madam  ?  — 
aunt,  I  mean!  " 

"  She  is,  but  not  in  the  house  at  present." 

"  Does  Madam  know  what  she  will  be,  to  me  ?  " 

"  Has  your  father  given  you  no  instructions  in  regard 
to  Charlotte?  Dost  thou  understand  me,  my  dear?" 

"  There  was  a  letter  from  him  to  my  cousin  Adrian. 
Part  of  it  he  did  not  read  aloud.  Perhaps  the  instructions 
were  in  that  part." 

"  A  wise  child,"  Mr.  Philip  murmured,  without  smiling. 

"  A  wise  cousin  Adrian,"  said  Madam.  "  Well,  we  shall 
see.  What  would  you  wish  her  to  be,  yourself?" 

Catherine  begged  pardon ;  she  did  not  understand  the 
question. 

"  Your  little  maidservant,  or  your  companion  and  play 
mate,  or  your  — " 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT  67 

"Dear  aunt,  do  let  us  be  careful !  "  Miss  Polly  inter 
jected  recklessly.  "  I  certainly  would  not  suggest  the  pos 
sibility  — " 

Madam's  small,  thick  hand — with  many  heavy  old 
rings  upon  it  — patted  the  table.  "  Let  the  child  speak 
first.  What  would  you  make  of  this  girl  yourself,  my  dear, 
if  you  could  do  exactly  as  you  please?" 

"  I  don't  need  a  servant,  do  I,  madam  ?  I  never  have 
had  a  little  girl,  like  a  sister,  to  play  with." 

"  Thou  shalt  have  a  big  girl  to  play  with !  One  who 
will  be  a  sister  and  —  " 

Again  the  warning  hand  on  the  table,  and  Madam's 
soft  "Polly,  Polly!" 

Philip  Schuyler  rested  his  dark,  attentive  eyes  on  Polly's 
face.  She  colored  deeply.  Her  lips  quivered,  but  she  re 
mained  silent,  accepting  the  rebuke. 

"My  dear,"  Madam  looked  at  Catherine,  "it  is  nature 
to  choose  whom  we  love  and  whom  we  hate,  but  friendship 
we  learn!  That  may  come  in  time,  between  you  and  this 
half-savage  child,  but  not  without  practice  and  much 
patience ;  and  more  will  be  expected  of  Charlotte  because 
she  is  white.  She  will  be  compared  to  what  she  has  fallen 
from,  while  if  she  were  an  Indian  we  should  measure 
downward  and  not  up.  At  present,  expect  no  more  of  her 
than  you  would  of  an  intelligent  dog  that  could  speak 
a  little  in  broken  English.  All  must  be  given  on  our  side 
and  hoped  for,  but  nothing  expected  in  return.  And  re 
member  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  which  is  like  unto  a 
grain  of  mustard-seed." 

Was  Madam  speaking  to  her  godchild  ?  Miss  Polly,  I 
am  sure,  knew  she  was  not ;  but  she  kept  her  eyes  steadily 


68  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

on  Catherine's  face,  that  she  had  charmed  with  her  fine, 
dominating  smile.  Her  eyes  glistened  with  moisture,  as 
old  eyes  do. 

"  Charlotte  takes  her  meals  with  us  for  the  betterment 
of  her  manners  except  we  have  company.  Such  table- 
manners,  as  she  has,  we  can  put  up  with,"  —  Miss  Polly 
shrugged  her  shoulders  and  glanced  at  her  cousin  Philip, 
—  "  but  our  guests  would  not  find  her  an  agreeable  neigh 
bor.  You  will  if  you  choose  help  her  with  her  book.  She 
hath  far  more  mind  than  a  dog,  the  Lord  be  thanked ! 
And  perhaps  you  will  sometimes  like  to  go  up  into  the 
attic  chamber  and  help  her  card  wool  for  the  spinners. 
She  would  stick  at  her  tasks  better,  perhaps,  if  she  had 
young  company.  But  whether  thou  work  or  play  with  her, 
remember  —  though  younger  in  years,  thou  art  older  in 
the  practice  of  gentle  ways  which  make  it  comfortable  for 
us  to  live  together.  Thou  must  be  the  leader,  else  't  will 
not  go  well  that  you  should  spend  much  time  together. 

"  Is  that  too  much  for  a  child  of  thy  years  to  remember 
all  at  once,  Caterina?" 

Madam  took  every  one  at  their  highest  capacity.  She 
never  talked  down  to  children  or  played  with  their  under 
standings.  After  she  was  done  speaking,  she  regarded  her 
listeners  placidly  and  listened  to  them  in  turn,  until  a 
servant  gave  in  a  message  which  black  Caesar  delivered 
behind  her  chair. 

"  Charlotte,  they  tell  me,  has  not  been  seen  since  dinner. 
See  that  she  is  given  her  supper,  however  late  she  come  in, 
Caesar." 

"  She  gone  off  mad  dis  mo'nin'  'fo'  dinner,"  Ca3sar  took 
it  on  him  to  say. 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT  69 

"  At  some  of  you  ?  "  asked  Mistress  Polly. 

"  No,  missis.  Nobody  in  de  kitchen  ain'  rile  her  lately 
as  I  knows  on." 

"  She  may  have  resented  what  was  said  before  her  this 
morning  concerning  a  certain  visit  in  the  future,"  Philip 
suggested,  after  Csesar  had  closed  the  door.  "  Even  a  dog 
knows  when  he  is  persona  non  grata,  on  occasions  that  ap 
peal  to  his  curiosity  and  interest  in  the  family." 

"  I  think  Charlotte's  interest  in  this  family  is  limited  to 
Charlotte  herself,"  said  Polly. 

"  You  leave  out  Aunt  Schuyler,"  Philip  replied.  "  The 
mustard-seed  has  sprouted  in  that  quarter  and  I  am  not 
mistaken." 

"  Oh,  Lord !  "  sighed  the  petulant  little  beauty,  "  are  we 
all  to  get  down  on  our  knees  and  hold  our  breath  to  watch 
this  mustard-sprout  grow  ?  " 

"Are  there  to  be  no  more  cakes  and  ale,  in  short?" 
Philip  supplied  with  a  smile. 

Polly  frowned  at  him  and  went  on :  "  Must  everything 
be  postponed  and  spoiled  while  we  settle  this  problem  of 
Charlotte?" 

"  Postponed,  very  likely,  but  not  of  necessity  spoiled," 
said  Madam.  "  Haste  spoils  more  precious  things  in  life 
than  ever  a  little  caution  did,  in  my  experience.  Let  us  be 
sure  we  take  no  false  steps  that  cannot  be  recalled,  while 
we  await  her  guardian's  decision.  Whatever  she  may  or 
may  not  become  in  the  future,  Charlotte  at  present  is  our 
guest." 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you,  Aunt  Schuyler,  not  quite,  as 
to  caution.  Caution  kills  —  it  wears  the  life  out  of  some 
things  that  ought  to  be  precious." 


70  THE  KOYAL  AMERICANS 

Polly's  eyes  were  clouded,  her  hands,  locked  in  each 
other  tightly  on  the  table,  clasped  her  handkerchief  rolled 
into  a  ball. 

"Now,  what  do  you  think  of  this?  His  own  child  — 
that  I  hope  to  make  mine  —  had  never  even  heard  my 
name  !  What  does  that  look  like  ?  " 

"  Discretion,"  pronounced  Madam,  using  Polly's  own 
word  but  with  a  difference.  "  The  wisdom  of  one  no  longer 
a  boy ;  and  thought  for  others.  If  you  cannot  think  for 
yourself,  Polly  my  dear,  be  pleased  to  murmur  less  whilst 
others  are  thinking  for  thee.  Remember  't  is  your  own 
papa  who  hath  balked  the  decision,  up  to  this  time." 

"  I  know,  I  know !  Every  one  decides  but  me  who  have 
to  live  by  their  decisions.  I  am  not  to  have  a  word  to  say, 
when  every  one  else  is  talking." 

"  If  there  be  any  talking  here  outside  the  family,  no  one 
in  New  York  is  responsible.  That  I  can  answer  for,"  said 
Madam,  more  sternly  than  she  had  spoken  yet. 

She  rose  and  stood  till  Philip  gave  her  his  arm,  and 
they  walked  out  together  slowly  across  the  hall. 

Polly  Watts  put  her  arm  around  Catherine  as  they  fol 
lowed. 

"  Does  she  think  me  a  cross,  cross  Polly  ?  "  The  child, 
who  felt  that  beneath  her  friend's  pettishness  there  was 
deep  and  genuine  pain,  only  hugged  her  waist  the  tighter. 
WThat  it  was  Polly  wanted,  or  who  it  was  she  seemed  to 
accuse,  she  could  not  understand.  But  Polly's  arm  clasped 
her  close,  and  she  was  whispering  down  into  her  hair, 
"  Wilt  love  me  a  little  and  never  mind  about  the  rest? 
Must  love  me,  must !  " 

No  one  had  ever  talked  such  sweet  foolishness  to  Cath- 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT  71 

erine,  even  in  play.  And  she  could  not  doubt  somehow  that 
there  was  deeper  meaning,  a  sort  of  compact,  under  these 
light  words,  if  such  a  thing  could  be  conceived  of  between 
herself  and  this  exquisite  darling  of  the  world.  No  words 
hitherto  necessary  to  Catherine's  vocabulary  of  the  affec 
tions  could  have  eased  her  of  her  sense  of  Polly's  enchant 
ments.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  kissing  and  hugging 
in  silence. 

In  Madam's  drawing-room,  on  the  long  wall  opposite 
the  chimney-piece,  hung  a  Dutch  painting  of  Esau  lament 
ing  for  his  stolen  blessing.  Often  Catherine  had  pondered 
the  story,  with  indignant  heartaches  for  Esau  and  burnings 
against  Jacob  and  his  mother.  She  could  see  the  group  in 
the  picture  from  where  she  knelt  beside  Polly's  chair,  and 
under  the  words  of  the  bedtime  psalm  they  were  singing 
together,  she  could  fancy  she  heard  the  cry  of  the  subtly 
defrauded :  — 

"  Hast  thou  but  one  blessing,  my  father  ?  bless  me,  even 
me  also,  O  my  father  !  " 

On  Polly's  knees  the  great  yellow-leaved  psalm-book 
lay  open,  Catherine  holding  up  one  brass-clamped  lid. 
Madam's  lips  moved  silently  in  unison  with  the  young 
voices ;  her  knitting-needles  flashed  in  the  firelight,  the 
practiced  fingers  of  the  knitter  moving  mechanically  while 
her  eyes  were  often  turned  toward  the  door.  Her  nephew 
had  ridden  home  to  his  own  singers  in  the  new  mansion  by 
the  river.  In  showing  him  out,  Ca3sar  had  been  ordered 
to  leave  the  door  into  the  hall  wide  open.  A  draft 
came  in,  waving  the  candles  under  the  picture,  and  Polly 
glanced  up  questioningly,  but  Madam's  command  was  re 
peated. 


72  THE  KOYAL  AMERICANS 

Presently  a  cautious  step  came  stealing,  with  pauses, 
along  the  passageway. 

Madam  raised  one  hand.  The  singing  ceased.  "Char 
lotte,"  she  said,  "  Enter,  child  !  " 

Stealing  a  look,  Catherine's  eyes  were  seized  by  a  pair 
of  quick,  dark  eyes  that  singled  her  from  the  owner's  post 
of  observation  in  the  doorway.  She  had  heard  the  velvet 
step,  reminding  her  of  spring,  when  Bassy  Dunbar  gave 
up  shoes  and  trod  the  wood-paths  in  moccasins.  The  tall, 
shabby  child  who  stood  there  in  her  drabbled  petticoats, 
smelling  of  bruised  mint  and  meadow-damps,  hesitating, 
poised  for  flight,  was  of  course  the  truant,  Charlotte. 

"  Come,  take  your  place,  my  child.  Here,  by  this  little 
girl." 

Madam  gave  one  more  look  and  went  on  with  her  knit 
ting. 

Charlotte  made  a  dart  for  the  spot  designated  and 
dropped  on  her  knees  beside  Catherine.  The  psalm  paused, 
awaiting  her  voice.  Her  breath  came  in  the  short  sighs 
of  a  runner,  but  as  she  had  been  instructed  in  the  tune, 
she  essayed  a  gasping  note  which  went  off  at  random 
queerly. 

Polly's  composure  forsook  her ;  she  smothered  a  giggle, 
squeezing  Catherine's  hand  beneath  the  psalm-book  for  sym 
pathy.  Back  on  her  heels  sank  the  new-comer  in  mortified 
silence.  Madam  looked  down  at  her  kindly. 

"  Are  you  tired,  Charlotte  ?  Can  you  not  sing  to-night?  " 

"  Not  sing  any  night !  Can  only  maks  squee-eel  like 
peeg.  Polly  Watt  laugh." 

Every  one  laughed,  except  Charlotte,  who  put  scorn  into 
her  way  of  saying  the  name  of  one  it  was  plain  she  frankly 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT  73 

disliked.  She  remained  grave  as  an  Indian,  squatted  on  her 
heels. 

"  I  think  we  are  all  tired,"  said  Madam.  "  Best  we  say 
our  prayers  and  go  to  sleep.  I  shall  sleep  the  better  for  this 
child  safe  home  again,  and  for  this  one  whose  journey  is 
safe  ended  under  my  roof,  God  be  thanked !  " 

By  the  pressure  of  her  touch  the  two  children  were 
brought  nearer  together,  face  to  face. 

Catherine's  smile  was  faint  and  dubious  ;  but  Charlotte, 
wiping  her  moist  and  muddied  palm  hard  upon  her  skirt, 
seized  Catherine's  little  hand  and  swayed  it  up  and  down 
in  both  her  own  delightedly. 

«  Oh,  I  like,  I  like  !  Who  she  ?  " 

"  She  is  the  child  of  your  best  friend,  Captain  Yelver- 
ton,"  said  Madam,  "  and  she  is  my  godchild,  like  your 
self." 

"  Come  to  stay  here  ?  " 

"  For  the  present.  Have  you  had  any  supper,  child  ?  " 

"  Don't  want  —  plenty  eat  all  day." 

She  turned  from  the  question  of  food  to  something  more 
desirable.  Her  large,  dark  eyes,  so  wide  apart  under  her 
low  forehead  and  the  long  bend  of  her  eyebrows,  were 
fixed  on  Catherine's  face  with  a  wondering  delight.  Per 
haps  she  had  never  before  seen  a  white  child  of  that  age 
and  of  such  beauty,  so  near.  She  fondled  her  hair  with 
timid  touches. 

Must  we  say  that  Miss  Polly  Watts  all  this  while  was 
looking  on  most  uncomfortably,  —  not  in  the  least  enjoying 
what  to  Madam  was  a  sad,  a  significant  sight  ?  Both  were 
the  children  of  those  white  mothers  whose  sufferings  marked 
the  path  of  the  higher  races  into  the  wilderness ;  they  were 


74  THE  KOYAL  AMERICANS 

equally  lovely  to  the  eye,  though  one  was  washed  and 
trimmed  and  cosseted,  and  one  was  out  of  the  meadow. 
Only  the  grace  of  God  through  human  intervention  had 
saved  the  one  from  the  fate  of  the  other  —  or  worse.  And 
the  little  orphan  of  civilization  was  blindly  groping  for 
the  tie  that  should  pull  her  back  and  unite  her  with 
what  she  had  lost  —  even  the  desire  for  —  beyond  re 
membrance. 

"  The  father-captain  ees  her  father  ?  "  Charlotte  pro 
nounced  the  words  slowly,  her  dark  hand  hovering  over 
Catherine's  head.  "  I  belong  that  father-captain.  She  be 
long  heem.  I  belong  she.  She  my  sister,  she  my  sister ! 
Where  she  sleep  to-night  ?  " 

That  active  small  dark  hand  touched  Catherine  on  the 
breast ;  then  smote  itself  on  its  own  breast  passionately. 
"  I  want  it  sleep  wis  me  !  I  take  off  clothes,  I  be  good  girl. 
I  want  sleep  wis  she." 

Poor  little  tired,  excited  Catherine  !  Madam's  eyes  were 
on  her,  hoping  all  things.  Much  must  be  given  on  her  side, 
much  endured,  nothing  expected  of  Charlotte  but  just  what 
she  was.  But  to  sleep  with  her,  the  first  night !  When  Polly 
had  whispered  they  were  to  share  the  same  bed  in  her  room  ! 
Altogether,  it  was  too  much.  Catherine  put  out  her  arms 
to  Polly,  who  received  her  and  buried  her  sob  of  shame 
and  failure  on  her  own  dainty  breast. 

Charlotte  gave  one  bitter,  wounded  look  at  the  pair  and 
rushed  away. 

If  our  little  girl  could  have  held  out  but  half  a  moment 
longer,  Madam  would  have  set  the  sleeping  question  right 
without  giving  Charlotte  the  blow  of  a  public  rejection. 
There  was  time  enough,  however,  she  comforted  the  child, 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT  75 

in  which  all  could  unite  to  improve  on  relations  which  were 
bound  to  be  a  little  confusing  at  first. 

And,  she  explained,  the  Indians  amongst  whom  poor 
Charlotte  learned  her  use  of  the  words  father  and  sister  do 
not  in  effect  claim  by  it  all  that  it  means  to  us.  It  was  the 
great  tribal  bond,  and  personal  intimacy  meant  little  to 
them  who  put  their  fingers  in  the  same  pot  and  lie  by  the 
same  fire.  To  sleep  together  meant  confidence  that  you 
would  not  have  a  knife  in  your  back  before  morning. 

The  tears  were  dried,  the  cloud  passed,  with  one  of  these 
two  children ;  but  the  other  plunged  into  the  dusk  again, 
and  sat  with  her  head  upon  her  knees  —  little  heiress  of 
"  the  dew  of  heaven,"  thinking  on  the  joys  of  the  chosen 
ones  of  Israel.  She  had  never  cared  for  anything  they 
wanted  her  to  care  for  before.  But  the  father-captain's 
child  for  her  play-fellow !  to  lie  by  her  side,  to  awaken 
with  in  the  morning,  to  run  the  woods  with,  to  fish  and 
paddle  —  dear  God !  how  she  wanted  that !  She  went  out 
farther  into  the  night,  and  stood  with  her  face  up  to  the 
stars.  Would  the  Great  Spirit  who  hung  his  golden  bow 
in  the  west,  and  spanned  the  sky  with  his  rain-bridge  of 
celestial  flowers  —  would  he  turn  the  white  child's  heart 
toward  her  sister,  in  the  morning? 


CHAPTER  XI 

ABOUT  an  hour  later,  when  the  house  was  still,  Char 
lotte  crept  out  of  her  bed,  fully  dressed,  with  one  blanket 
wrapped  around  her,  and  stole  down  the  attic  stairs  and 
along  the  upper  passage  to  the  door  of  Polly's  bedroom. 
She  listened  a  moment.  There  were  soft  voices  talking  in 
a  continuous  murmur  within.  She  sighed  to  think  how 
sweet  it  must  be  to  be  able  to  speak  like  that  once  more, 
and  be  understood,  every  little  word !  And  so  many  words 
are  needed  when  one  talks  with  strangers !  Then  she  folded 
her  blanket  around  her  damp  clothing,  and  lay  down  out 
side  the  door. 

Inside,  in  the  beautiful  little  room,  —  white-painted, 
chintz-curtained,  with  the  candles  out  and  the  spring  moon 
shining  through  the  little  square-paned  sash,  and  the 
whisper  of  a  low  fire,  winking  itself  out  on  the  hearth,  — 
oh,  the  rest  of  being  alone  with  Polly!  Even  Madam, 
with  her  grand  kindness  to  the  little  girl  who  was  every 
minute  on  tiptoe  in  her  presence  to  appear  at  her  very 
worthiest,  was  something  of  a  strain.  But  Polly  was  pure 
joy,  —  another  child  like  herself,  yet  a  beautiful  young 
woman  to  be  worshiped;  a  human  deity,  sweet  as  day 
light,  an  idol  set  off  by  the  potency  of  clothes  ;  that  worldly 
engine  whose  influence  Catherine  had  never  felt  before.  Its 
mysteries  were  revealed  even  in  details  as  familiar  as  a 
nightcap,  when  the  same  was  bordered  with  magic  frills 
put  together  as  cunningly  as  flowers,  inclosing  such  a  face 
as  Polly's  on  the  pillow  beside  one. 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT  77 

Polly,  for  the  child's  sake,  had  pretended  sleep,  with 
great  generosity,  for  her  thoughts  were  crushingly  wide 
awake,  yearning  for  speech  on  vital  things.  But  when  her 
little  bed-fellow  rose  softly  on  one  elbow,  and,  after  a  mo 
ment's  hush,  slipped  out  on  her  side  of  the  bed  and  went 
from  sight,  Polly  leaned  over  to  see  what  had  become  of 
her. 

"  What  is  it  ?  Where  are  you,  child  ?  " 

"  I  am  here.  I  only  forgot  something." 

That  side  of  the  room  was  in  deep  shadow.  Polly  at  first 
did  not  see  the  little  figure  kneeling  on  the  rug  by  the 
head-curtains. 

"  Catherine  dear,  —  what  is  she  doing  down  there  ?  " 

"  I  forgot  to  say  my  prayer  for  papa." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  child,  forgive  me  !  I  heard  the  whisper 
ing  too.  Catherine,  say  it  out  loud,  will  she,  and  let  me 
say  it  with  her  ?  " 

A  silence. 

"  I  don't  know  if  you  could,"  said  an  embarrassed  voice 
from  beside  the  bed.  "  It  is  a  little  one  I  made  up  myself 
for  only  us." 

"  But  say  it !  I  too  pray  for  thy  father,  strange  to  tell." 

Catherine  said  her  prayer  over  again  distinctly,  though 
much  distressed  at  the  sound  of  her  own  voice. 

"God  bless  dear  papa  and  keep  him  safe  and  well. 
Make  me  good  enough  that  he  shall  be  always  happy 
when  he  thinks  of  me,  and  let  me  live  with  him,  some  day, 
in  a  dear  home  of  our  own.  Amen  !  " 

"  In  the  country,"  she  never  failed  to  add,  but  never 
aloud,  because  that  would  be  particular  and  troublesome  ; 
and  if  God  knows  all  our  thoughts,  as  the  cousin  said  He 


78  THE   EOYAL  AMERICANS 

did,  then  could  He  see  that  she  wished  this  every  night 
of  her  life,  and  perhaps  He  might  be  able  to  do  something 
about  it.  And  if  Bassy  could  somehow  be  there  too,  — 
but  that  would  be  asking  rather  too  much,  and  God  might 
have  other  plans,  as  the  cousin  said,  for  Bassy. 

Polly  had  repeated  the  prayer  all  through,  hesitating 
only  to  catch  the  right  word  —  even  to  the  "  dear  home  of 
our  own ;"  which  might  have  sounded  queer  to  Catherine 
if  she  had  not  drifted  off  into  thoughts  of  her  own. 

•  But  when  she  was  back  again  in  bed  with  Polly,  and 
they  lay  with  the  shyness  of  the  prayer  between  them, 
Polly's  voice  broke  out  passionately,  "  Oh,  thy  father !  — 
And  my  dearest,  dearest  friend !  Some  day  his  little  daugh 
ter  will  know  what  it  means  to  have  a  friend  like  that. 
Not  like  him.  There  never  will  be  his  equal  in  our  time. 
No,  thou  wilt  have  to  put  up  with  such  as  can  be  had  when 
men  like  him  are  made  no  more.  Oh,  what  am  I  saying !  " 

Polly  sat  up  in  bed,  looking  down  at  Catherine.  Her 
cheeks  were  flushed,  her  lovely  eyes  wide  awake  and 
sparkling. 

"  Very  tired  ?  Very  sleepy,  honeykin  ?  Could  we  talk 
a  little  this  first  night?  We'll  sleep  late  to-morrow.  Oh, 
I  want  so  much  to  have  it  over !  Feel  my  heart,  how  it 
beats  !  We  are  too  far  off  to  say  things.  Come  close  to  me. 
I  must  feel  that  thou  wilt  love  me." 

Catherine  was  a  little  startled,  for  she  could  "  feel " 
that  catchy  breathing  and  wondered  what  was  coming ; 
but  Polly  continued  rapidly  in  the  low  murmur  which 
sounded  so  sweet  to  that  other  wakeful  listener  outside  the 
door. 

"  Thy  mother !  "  she  gasped.  "  Aunt  says  she  was  very 


THE  GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT  79 

young,  almost  as  young  as  me,  when  she  died  and  left 
her  little  baby  —  here  in  my  arms.  Left  thee,  little  Cath 
erine.  Oh  —  cruel !  And  a  father  so  young,  too !  Never  to 
have  a  home  nor  a  wife  to  love  him ;  all  his  life  swept 
away  and  he  but  twenty-four  when  he  lost  all  that.  And 
some  men  —  well,  we  know  how  some  men  would  have 
done!  But  suppose  another  girl,  who  never  loved  a  man 
before,  should  see  him  and  love  him  —  for  himself,  but 
partly  too  for  all  that  sorrow  he  had  borne.  And  he 
should  love  her.  Could  she  make  a  new  life  and  a  home 
for  him,  and  for  his  little  girl?  Who  lost  her  own  girl- 
mother.  Would  that  seem  strange  and  awful  to  thee,  little 
Catherine,  if  thy  father  took  another  wife,  and  she  was 
me? 

"  Now  wait,  and  don't  speak  yet.  Let  us  see  how  it 
would  go  :  If  thou  wert  sick,  to  be  thy  mother ;  if  well,  to 
be  thy  sister  ?  To  laugh  and  dance  and  kiss,  and  love  each 
other  always,  whatever. 

"  Ah,  it  is  too  strange !  I  see.  I  feel  thee  all  a-tremble. 
Poor  little  Katje  !  I  shouldn't  have  told  thee  to-night — 
nor  any  time,  aunt  would  say.  'T  was  for  thy  father  to  tell 
thee  first ;  but  he  could  not  write  such  a  thing,  could  he  ? 
and  me  a  stranger  ?  And  it  is  so  long  he  is  in  coming ! 
And  I  did  want  to  say  why  it  is  so  hard  for  me  about 
Charlotte  ?  There  was  no  Charlotte  when  he  spoke  to  me 
first.  Only  he  and  I  and  thou ! 

"  Well,  has  n't  she  a  word  for  poor  Polly  ?  Am  I  to 
have  no  little  place  of  my  own  in  thy  heart  beside  that  great 
father  of  thine?  Must  have  him  all  to  thyself?  Indeed, 
indeed,  I  don't  blame  thee,  for  that 's  what  I  want.  I 
want  him  for  us — us  two  alone  —  and  that's  enough  for 


80  THE  KOYAL  AMERICANS 

the  present.  I  have  not  got  a  great  big  heart  like  Aunt 
Schuyler.  It  may  grow.  Let  us  hope  it.  But  just  now  it 
pains  very  much  when  I  try  to  stretch  it  big  enough  to 
take  in  Charlotte,  into  my  very  life  and  home  —  our 
home !  But  thy  father  has  taken  her,  before  God  he  has 
said  it.  I  love  him  for  it  more  than  for  anything  he  ever 
did  almost  —  but  oh,  God  help  us  all  when  it  comes  to 
pass!" 

Polly  must  have  known  really  that  there  was  nothing 
of  resistance  to  her  sweet  self  in  Catherine 's  startled  si 
lence,  or  even  in  her  shrinking  from  this  great  news.  That 
it  meant  happiness,  there  was  not  an  instant's  doubt  in  the 
child's  mind ;  only  at  first  she  was  unable  to  grasp  the  idea 
of  a  new  marriage  and  a  girl- wife  like  Polly  for  her  father, 
who  seemed  almost  any  age.  Catherine  would  have  been 
less  surprised  had  the  second  mother  in  store  for  her  been 
Madam  Schuyler  herself.  The  wonder  stayed,  but  the 
happiness  grew  real.  They  lay,  without  speaking,  in  each 
other's  arms,  and  then  Catherine  raised  herself  and  kissed 
Polly  on  the  lips. 

"  It  is  too  good,  but  I  hope  it  is  true,"  she  said. 

"  I  hope  to  heaven  it  may  be !  "  Polly  responded.  "  But 
my  father  —  he  too  does  not  like  the  idea  of  Charlotte 
mixed  in.  Still,  when  I  am  home  again,  once,  I  can  man 
age  my  papa !  It  is  only  when  two  men  talk  together  that 
trouble  comes.  Now,  sleepy  bye,  little  heart.  There  goes 
the  moon  down  —  see,  the  window-pane  is  dark.  It  must 
be  after  midnight." 


CHAPTER  XII 

CATHERINE  slept  on  this  first  night  at  Madam's  hardly 
half  the  number  of  hours  she  commonly  did  at  home.  In 
stead  of  making  up  sleep  next  morning,  she  awoke  at  day 
break  from  sheer  hunger,  excitement  having  taken  away 
her  appetite  the  evening  before,  and  lay  wondering  if  any 
of  the  good-natured  black  people  were  yet  astir  below- 
stairs,  of  whom  she  could  beg  a  cup  of  milk  or  a  piece  of 
bread.  The  room  was  dusky  still,  Polly  fast  asleep,  as 
pink  as  a  rose,  in  the  shadow  of  her  flowered  bed-curtains, 
and  all  her  pretty  things  on  the  dressing-table  and  her 
dainty  garments  laid  across  the  chairs,  to  witness  that  the 
wearer  was  not  a  dream. 

Catherine  rose  and  washed  herself,  with  care  to  make 
no  noise,  in  a  little  paneled  closet  of  wardrobes  and  mir 
rors  adjoining  the  bedroom.  As  her  morning  frocks  had 
been  unpacked  and  put  away  where  she  could  not  find 
them  without  too  much  opening  and  shutting  of  drawers, 
she  dressed  in  her  better  one,  the  lutestring  Joanna  had 
made  for  the  journey,  handsome  enough  for  a  first  ap 
pearance,  thin  enough  to  offset  the  warmth  of  her  winter 
cloak.  Joanna  had  complimented  herself  highly  on  this 
achievement;  it  was  the  subject  of  Vrow  Van  Wagenen's 
constant  praise  and  solicitude  on  the  sail  up.  She  had  cov 
ered  the  little  girl  in  large  aprons  of  her  own  size,  the 
voyage  being  a  species  of  occultation  from  which  the  lute 
string  emerged  fresh  and  shining,  to  Vrow  Van  Wage 
nen's  great  content.  Some  persons  were  gifted  enough  to 


82  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

make  such  dresses,  others  were  pretty  enough  to  become 
them ;  she  who  was  neither,  wisely  satisfied  herself  with 
preserving  them  to  their  proper  use. 

It  was  certainly  stretching  a  point  to  go  down  to  break 
fast  in  one's  best  frock,  and  pearl-silk  stockings,  and  mo 
rocco  buskins  with  papa's  buckles  that  he  sent  for  Christ 
mas  ;  but  what  could  be  done,  with  such  an  ache  in  one's 
frankly  speaking  stomach,  that  asked  so  loud  for  break 
fast  ?  She  tiptoed  out  of  the  room,  and  came  very  near 
stumbling  over  Charlotte,  squatted  on  the  floor  outside  in 
a  blanket-covered  heap,  out  of  which  popped  her  pretty, 
tousled  head  and  great  dark,  baby  eyes.  She  rose  and 
shook  herself  like  a  dog ;  smiled  caressingly  at  Catherine, 
and  laid  one  finger  on  her  lips. 

"  Must  n't  wake  Mees  Lay  Abed  !  Come !  The  good 
God  send  you  to  me.  I  take  you  where  you  be  'appy !  " 

Before  Catherine  could  know  her  own  objections,  her 
hand  was  seized  and  Charlotte  had  her  forth  of  the  house 
into  a  morning  of  perfect  spring ;  and  they  were  scamper 
ing  through  a  field  of  young  clover,  wet  with  dew,  below 
Madam's  garden-wall.  Catherine  had  splashed  into  a 
brook  that  hid  in  the  grass.  Her  best  shoes  were  ruined. 
She  was  cold  and  muddy,  she  wanted  breakfast,  but  there 
was  something  awake  in  her  blood  that  paid  for  all. 

The  first  sunbeams  streaked  the  meadow.  River-fog 
arose  and  stole  across  the  purple  line  of  woods.  The  blue 
tops  of  the  Catskills  brought  the  sky-line  near.  Cow-bells 
could  be  heard  distantly,  which  they  overtook  :  the  town 
herd  finding  its  own  way  back  to  pasture. 

They  met  a  man  limping  along  with  a  crotched  stick 
in  his  hand ;  he  had  an  evil,  stupid  face.  He  called  to 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT  83 

Charlotte,  pointing  to  a  bundle  she  carried  on  her  back, 
and  tilted  his  ragged  elbow,  making  a  sign  of  drinking. 
Charlotte  appeared  to  know  this  man.  She  made  a  face  at 
him. 

"  No  got !  "  she  answered  shortly.  "  No  more  have." 
"  What  did  he  want  ?  "  asked  Catherine. 
"  Want  me  give  heem  drink  whiskey.  No  have.  Some 
little  thing  have  got  for  poor  Injun  to  eat.  He,  not  hun 
gry.  He  got  plenty." 

"  Why  should  he  think  you  could  give  him  whiskey  ?  " 
"  I  give  heem  once.  He  give  me  snake-skin." 
"  What  did  you  want  with  a  snake-skin  ?  " 
Charlotte  laughed.     "Nev'  mind,  little  sister.    Some 
day  I  tell." 

Hearing  of  food,  Catherine  asked  sheepishly  for  some 
thing  herself  to  eat.  She  had  surmised,  with  pleasure, 
that  Charlotte  was  on  an  errand  of  charity,  probably  to 
some  of  Madam's  poor  Indian  pensioners.  But  a  morsel 
of  bread  would  hardly  count  with  them,  and  charity  begins 
at  home.  Still,  she  felt  awkward,  especially  as  Charlotte 
turned  and  looked  at  her  curiously. 

"  White  man  child  eat  very  many  time.  Injun  child 
once ;  twice  —  go  sleep.  You  no  get  supper  last  night  ? %> 
"  A  little,"  said  Catherine,  feeling  pitifully  babyish 
beside  her  companion,  whose  dark  cheeks  glowed,  whose 
step,  even  with  a  bundle  on  her  slender  back,  she  could 
only  keep  up  with  on  a  half -run. 

Catherine  was  braced  with  fragments  of  cold  Indian 
bread  and  salt  pork,  and  they  ran  on  at  a  pace  she  had 
not  taken  since  her  illness,  and  for  more  miles  than  she 
could  guess  at.  But  the  way  seemed  long. 


84  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

They  came  to  a  small  lake  or  pond,  encircled  with  white 
birches.  On  its  marge  was  a  poor  encampment  of  squaws 
and  children  who  were  come  for  the  fishing,  or  to  sell 
their  brooms  and  small  wares  in  the  town.  Every  inde 
scribable  form  of  squalor  such  as  these  poor  creatures 
gather  round  them,  all  the  refuse  no  savage  is  ashamed  of 
—  offended  the  eye  of  the  child,  who  shrank  from  a  nearer 
acquaintance.  Yet  nothing  at  a  distance  could  have  ex 
ceeded  the  picturesqueness  of  these  bark  huts,  and  their 
owners  busy  about  them. 

We  may  pass  over  the  welcome  they  gave  Charlotte 
and  the  meal  they  made,  mothers  and  children,  off  the 
contents  of  her  pack,  no  morsel  of  which  she  would 
touch,  but  accepted  a  gourd  of  some  unpleasant  preparation 
of  their  own  ;  which  they  offered  Catherine  likewise.  But 
she  literally  could  not  stomach  it,  although  she  saw  that 
her  refusal  gave  offense.  Pleasanter  it  was  to  watch  the 
looks  of  affectionate  delight  their  unspeakable  countenances 
contrived  yet  somehow  to  convey  whenever  they  spoke  to 
Charlotte;  to  see  the  children  swarm  around  and  climb 
over  her,  and  her  fine  recklessness  of  such  little  inconven 
iences  as  filthy  fingers  thrust  into  one's  mouth,  or  babies 
disposing  of  their  meals  without  notice. 

Her  visits  were  evidently  no  rarity.  There  seemed  a 
bond  of  great  kindness  between  them,  based  in  a  measure 
probably  on  the  contents  of  the  sack  or  others  similar 
which  Charlotte  had  lugged  there,  with  Madam's  know 
ledge,  Catherine  thought,  dispensing  her  bounty.  Had  she 
known  Charlotte's  kind  a  little  better,  she  would  have 
guessed  it  was  pilfered. 

The  little  girl  was  tired  out.  She  would  have  been  glad 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT  85 

to  lie  down  on  the  warm  pebbles  and  sleep.  But  she  was 
in  the  hands  of  an  ardent  entertainer,  who  wanted  to  pour 
the  joys  she  loved  herself  out  of  a  full  cup  into  that  of 
her  little,  ignorant  white  sister. 

On  the  lake's  edge  rested  a  canoe  graceful  as  a  leaf. 
Charlotte  stepped  in  first,  kicking  off  her  shoes.  An  old 
squaw  held  the  stern  for  Catherine,  showing  her  how  and 
where  to  sit.  The  poor  little  lutestring  was  past  praying 
for  now :  but  what  were  clothes  —  better  or  best  —  weighed 
with  that  giddy  thrill  when  a  stroke  of  the  paddle  sent 
the  water-cradle  out  across  the  pond  with  a  motion  soft 
as  sleep  and  treacherous  as  a  dream ! 

And  Charlotte,  as  if  singing  to  a  sleeper,  began  her 

chant :  — 

"  C'dtait  un  vigneron, 
C'dtait  un  vigneron, 
Qui  avait  une  fille  lo  la  ! 
Qui  avait  une  fille  ! " 

It  would  be  impossible  to  copy  her  rendering  of  these 
words ;  but  the  rhythm  was  perfect.  They  were  cross 
ing  a  stretch  of  still  water  darkened  by  the  reflection  of 
the  great  north  woods.  Young  birches  shot  through  with 
sunlight  rimmed  the  shore  and  waded  out,  clothed  in  radi 
ance,  toward  some  island  boulders ;  for  the  lake  was  flood- 
high.  Seven  great  pines,  stark  bare  for  thirty  feet  upwards, 
an  outpost  of  the  forest,  stood  in  the  water  patiently ;  silly 
little  wavelets  chased  each  other  over  their  sunken  roots. 
The  reflections,  prolonging  that  of  the  main  forest,  re 
minded  one  of  the  towers  of  a  seaport  city  hanging  in  the 
tide. 

All  went  well  as  long  as  Charlotte  held  the  paddle,  but 


86  THE  EOYAL  AMERICANS 

when  the  fish  began  to  strike  all  about  them  and  she 
threw  out  her  trolling  line  and  tried  to  teach  Catherine 
to  manage  the  canoe,  an  end  of  that  voyage  was  not  far 
off. 

How  she  fell  into  the  lake  and  how  Charlotte  got  her 
ashore  again,  at  what  risk  to  her  own  life,  Catherine  never 
quite  knew,  for  Charlotte  never  boasted  of  that  rescue. 
When  she  came  to  herself,  she  lay  wrapped  in  an  ill-smell 
ing  blanket  by  a  fire  on  the  beach,  under  some  ragged 
bushes  where  her  wretched  little  clothes  hung  drying.  An 
old  squaw  tended  a  pot  on  the  fire,  a  number  of  ugly  chil 
dren  stared  at  her,  and  Charlotte,  pale  and  downcast,  with 
rillets  of  water  trickling  from  her  own  garments,  sat  strok 
ing  Catherine's  hand. 

Something  hot  and  strong  was  given  her  to  drink,  rather 
forcibly,  and  she  fell  asleep  again  remembering  nothing 
more  till  she  felt  herself  hoisted  upon  some  one's  back,  and 
a  warm  broad  body  shook  beneath  her :  she  was  being  car 
ried  home  pick-a-back  through  the  fields  by  an  old  squaw, 
Charlotte  trotting  soberly  beside  her,  giving  her  from  time 
to  time  a  side  pat  and  a  melancholy  smile. 

How  late  it  was,  how  long  they  had  been  a-gypsying, 
she  was  unable  to  guess.  A  number  of  reflections  hurt  her 
all  at  once. 

"Whether  you  work  together  or  play  together,"  she 
heard  Madam  saying,  "you  should  be  the  leader;  else 
it  will  not  go  well  that  you  should  be  much  together." 
Again  Madam's  voice :  "  Charlotte  is  older  in  years,  but 
thou  art  older  in  all  those  kindly  ways  which  make  it 
pleasant  for  us  to  live  together." 

And  this  was  the  first  day  of  the  great  Albany  visit!    * 


CHAPTER  XIII 

No  definite  blame  ever  was  laid  upon  Charlotte  by  any 
one  of  the  family.  Servants  will  be  servants  ;  and  Polly  — 
we  have  purposely  omitted  Polly's  first  excited  language, 
but  Charlotte  had  the  memory  of  an  Indian.  She  was 
never  literally  punished,  —  Madam's  justice  forbade  that, 
—  but  she  never  again  was  trusted  alone  with  the  father- 
captain's  child. 

An  illness  which  followed  that  innocent  escapade  made 
it  appear  more  serious  than  it  was,  and  Madam  was  afraid 
for  little  Catherine.  Joanna  had  coddled  her  darling  per 
haps  unwisely  after  the  treacherous  measles ;  she  had  lost 
tone  for  want  of  exercise ;  healthy  child  that  she  was,  this 
time  she  succumbed  to  the  multiplied  strains  and  exposure ; 
a  bronchial  inflammation  set  in  and  she  lay  abed  for  over 
a  week,  not  suffering  much  —  rather  enjoying  her  own  im 
portance,  and  enraptured  with  Polly's  petting,  which  Polly 
knew  so  well  how  to  bestow ;  with  Amanda  for  a  comic  and 
devoted  nurse,  and  Madam  her  physician. 

A  sick  child  does  not  crave  the  society  of  other  children. 
Weakness  begs  for  repose.  She  did  not  ask  for  Charlotte, 
though  she  knew  dimly  that  the  girl  hung  for  hours  out 
side  her  door,  that  she  battled  with  the  servants  for  a 
chance  to  do  some  smallest  thing  for  her  little  white  sister 
whom  she  had  ignorantly  hurt.  Many  a  suppressed  "  Go 
'long!  —  Be  off  now !  Git  out  o'  my  way !  "  advised  them 
in  the  sick  room  of  Amanda's  progress  up  the  stairs  with 
her  hot  water  and  poultices,  or  Caesar's,  with  his  tray. 


88  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

Sometimes  a  kick  or  a  cuff  would  clear  a  passage  for  the 
legitimate  forces,  and  with  a  howl  of  rage  —  the  pain  was 
nothing  accounted  —  Charlotte  would  dash  away ;  her  feet, 
heel  to  ground,  would  go  pounding  down  the  lane,  and  she 
would  carry  her  heart's  defeat  and  wounded  love  where 
other  half -tamed  captives  are  taught  by  nature  to  carry 
theirs. 

No  one  in  the  house  knew  where  she  went,  and  only  one 
person  really  cared. 

All  things  were  not  told  Madam,  who  never  left  her 
apartments  till  near  noon.  In  a  general  way  she  knew  the 
experiment  was  not  going  well,  but  whether  she  was  pre 
occupied  or  feared  to  buckle  the  curb  too  tight,  she  never 
caused  the  runaway  to  be  followed,  or  inquired  too  closely 
into  the  reasons  of  her  flights. 

So,  although  the  household  combination  was  not  quite 
a  failure,  it  was  far  from  succeeding.  There  were  too  many 
servants  and  spoiled  children  involved.  The  wisest  make 
their  mistakes.  Madam  herself  made  the  first  one  when  she 
handed  over  the  white  captive,  on  the  day  of  her  arrival, 
to  a  negro  girl  to  be  taught  how  to  bathe  herself  properly. 
Amanda's  unnecessary  vigor  might  have  passed  for  good 
will,  not  so  her  venturing  to  point  at,  as  a  mark  of  low 
witchcraft,  the  sacred  totem  of  the  wolf -clan  of  the  Abena- 
kis  tattooed  on  the  maid's  white  breast  —  the  sign  of  tribal 
adoption  which  she  had  been  taught  to  revere.  The  slave- 
girl's  words  she  could  not  understand,  but  the  language  of 
mockery  and  contempt  needs  no  vocabulary.  Naked,  but 
for  a  bed-blanket  tossed  about  her,  the  tall,  slender  slip 
of  wild  virginity  came  before  Madam,  showed  the  sign  be 
tween  her  proud  young  breasts  and  stamped  her  foot,  and, 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT  89 

pointing  to  the  floor,  signed  that  Amanda  belonged  there 
in  apology  for  contempt  of  her  person  and  her  gods. 

Madam  comforted  her,  ignored  the  demand,  while  she 
hung  upon  the  round  neck,  upreared  like  a  serpent's 
about  to  strike,  a  pierced  gold  guinea  to  wear  upon  the 
place  of  honor.  But  with  Amanda,  from  that  day,  it  was 
fire  and  tow. 

The  guinea  lay  lightly  on  the  sinister  spot.  It  was 
worn  —  or  not  worn  —  for  Madam's  sake,  but  the  wolf- 
mark  was  dyed  in  the  grain. 

If  those  we  love  could  but  love  one  another,  or  even  un 
derstand  !  Catherine,  now  that  she  was  well  and  less  phy 
sically  fretful,  had  tender  and  often  remorseful  thoughts 
of  her  companion.  Out  of  doors,  when  they  could  be  left 
together,  at  dusk  running  about  in  the  meadow,  or  at 
milking-time  under  the  big  maple  tree,  or  up  in  the 
attic  carding  wool,  they  were  simply  happy.  With  Polly, 
indoors  life  touched  the  limits  of  actual  and  potential  bliss 
at  the  age  of  beauty  worship.  But  the  two  joys  would  not 
combine.  Polly  seemed  changed  herself,  and  hard  and 
sometimes  mean,  when  Charlotte  made  a  third,  and  Char 
lotte  under  Polly's  freezing  eye  developed  a  maddening 
perversity. 

The  two  nearest  of  a  class  drew  together  significantly, 
and  the  other  was  the  more  estranged. 

They  were  come  to  the  last  week  in  June.  The  house 
had  much  company  coming  and  going,  Madam's  English 
godchild  greatly  noticed  and  far  too  much  admired.  Her 
small  wardrobe  Polly  had  joyfully  picked  to  pieces  and 
transformed  and  added  to,  and  sowed  the  seeds  of  a  love 


90  THE  KOYAL  AMERICANS 

of  dress  which  incommoded  our  Catherine  all  her  life  as  a 
woman  with  greater  concerns  on  her  soul ;  since,  owing  to 
circumstances  of  which  she  had  no  cause  to  be  ashamed, 
she  could  seldom  satisfy  her  growing  knowledge  and  sense 
of  perfection  in  this  realm  of  material  things. 

Madam  never  again  pressed  upon  either  of  her  young 
wards  —  the  two  happiest  ones  —  her  solemn  charge  of 
that  first  sweet  night,  when  Catherine's  young  soul  lay 
under  her  hand.  There  were  many  sides  to  Madam's  duty 
in  that  complex  household;  and  in  the  world  outside, 
those  dreaded  differences,  that  a  few  years  later  were  to 
divide  her  family,  were  beginning  to  form  along  the  "  po 
litical  horizon,"  the  first  thunder-heads  before  the  storm. 
She  was  watching  her  fair  niece,  too,  with  abundant  anx 
iety. 

Captain  Yelverton's  letters  came  regularly  now  — 
many  more  to  his  lady-love  than  to  his  daughter,  whereof 
the  former  was  exceedingly  generous — too  generous,  a 
man  might  say.  Polly  would  walk  up  and  down  the  room, 
glowing  with  happiness,  and  read  aloud  to  her  little  fu 
ture  daughter  passages  and  phrases  not  meant,  one  may 
guess,  for  little  daughters  to  hear.  The  captain  was  deeply 
in  love  and  Polly,  at  scarce  sixteen,  was  too  much  of  a 
child  not  to  long  to  boast  of  his  passion  to  any  one  who 
happened  to  be  near. 

"  My  faith,"  she  would  cry,  "  what  a  man  he  is !  Hast 
ever  measured  him  in  thy  mind  with  other  men,  Katje  ? 
Lord,  what  do  I  say  !  A  little  pussykin  like  thee  bred  in 
a  country  village  —  what  dost  thou  know  of  men  who 
change  the  world,  and  lead  armies,  and  fight  duels,  and 
quarrel  about  place  and  money !  Well,  I  can  tell  thee  he 


THE   GKEAT  ALBANY  VISIT  91 

hath  the  best  parts  of  them  all  —  and  is  the  handsomest 
gentleman,  I  think,  on  this  continent,  excepting  my  cousin 
Courtlandt.  He  is  too  black  and  too  silent  for  me.  I 
gave  him  a  gold  pair  of  garter-clasps  for  the  New  Year  — 
thy  father,  I  mean,  —  but  that  is  a  secret !  'T  is  so  hard 
to  choose  for  a  man,  and  his  were  stole  by  a  rascal  he  had 
for  valet  which  my  brother  recommended.  He  is  quite  as 
handsome  in  fatigue  dress  as  in  his  most  splendid  uni 
form,  and  oh,  I  do  like  him  with  no  powder  in  his  hair ! 

"  He  has  all  the  fine  manners  of  the  fine  gentlemen  of 
the  Guards  regiments,  yet  he  does  none  of  the  horrid  things 
they  do  and  have  not  even  the  grace  to  hide  it.  He  is  to 
that  set  as  the  Quakers  say  of  themselves  and  the  world : 
4  in  it  yet  not  of  it.' 

"  He  is  as  gallant  and  good  as  General  Wolfe,  or  the 
young  Lord  Howe,  whom  all  the  country  wept  for. 

"  '  Of  all  the  king's  knights  he  's  the  flower, 

Compagnon  de  la  Marjolaine  ; 
Of  all  the  king's  knights  he  's  the  flower, 
To p jours  gai ! ' 

"Not  always  gay  —  that  is  stupid — but  always  true, 
and  always  mine  and  thine,  little  sweet !  Oh,  how  happy 
I  am  !  " 

And  Polly  would  go  swaying  up  and  down  the  room 
to  the  tune  of  "  Compagnon  de  la  Marjolaine,"  or  she  would 
catch  little  Catherine  in  her  arms  and  force  her  to  dance 
too,  or  toss  her  at  arm's  length  to  a  point  opposite,  and 
make  her  a  grand  curtsy,  to  be  copied  exactly  under  her 
critical  eye,  the  room's  width  apart. 

"  Mistress  Catherine  Honoree  Yelverton  makes  her  bow 
to  the  world,"  she  would  say ;  and  the  pair  would  go  off  into 


92  THE  KOYAL  AMERICANS 

shrieks  of  girlish  laughter.  Or,  she  would  pick  up  the 
child  in  her  strong  arms  and  run  with  her  out  of  the  back 
door  of  the  long  hall,  and  plump  her  down,  herself  beside 
her,  in  a  pile  of  new-mown  grass  on  the  bleach  ing-ground. 
And  Charlotte,  from  the  attic  where  she  was  gazing  out 
of  window  instead  of  carding  wool,  would  see,  and  a  lonely 
jealousy  of  so  much  love  and  mirth  would  crush  her  back 
into  speechless  savagery. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  was  the  same  blind  pain  and 
rage  in  Polly's  heart,  whenever,  in  one  of  those  letters  which 
threw  her  into  such  transports,  Charlotte's  name  was  men 
tioned  with  kindness  or  solicitude.  Charlotte  was  growing 
in  beauty  daily.  Could  that  have  had  anything  to  do  with 
Polly's  antagonism  ?  One  does  not  have  to  be  stolen  by  the 
Indians  to  know  these  brute  mysteries  of  Nature's  school. 
Self-preservation  is  one  law,  of  ladies  as  of  squaws.  Polly 
would  have  been  as  frank  in  writing  to  her  lover  as  in 
speaking  of  him.  It  could  not  have  been  hid  from  him 
how  she  felt  about  Charlotte  as  a  part  of  their  future  me 
nage.  But  if  he  ventured  on  a  suggestion,  a  charge  as  deli 
cate  as  might  be,  in  reference  to  that  Stumbling  Block, 
that  Insoluble  Problem,  poor  Polly  would  become  some 
thing  of  a  savage  herself  on  the  instant.  She  would  stamp 
her  little  foot,  and  cry  out  incoherently  in  an  angry  de 
spair  that  might  have  been  comic,  as  a  child's  wrath  is,  had 
it  not  held  so  much  of  disaster  for  the  future. 

Captain  Yelverton  thought  he  was  doing  her  the  great 
est  possible  honor  to  include  her  in  his  pathetic  undertak 
ing.  Indeed,  for  its  success  Polly's  help  was  essential.  He 
did  not  doubt  that  she  understood  how  much  his  past  was 
bound  up  in  it,  how,  by  his  very  happiness  now,  he  felt 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT  93 

pledged  to  carry  it  through.  It  was  not  only  his  thank- 
offering  for  his  little  daughter,  —  it  was  his  oblation  for 
Polly  herself.  But  he  did  not  know  Polly.  He  looked  in 
her  face  and  believed  her  an  angel ;  and  expected  of  her 
accordingly. 

Had  he  yielded  and  allowed  Charlotte  to  be  trained  for 
a  servant,  could  she  have  been  Polly's  servant  ?  Polly  had 
not  then  the  patience  or  the  discipline  herself  to  have 
governed  such  a  menial  as  Charlotte  would  have  made. 
But  he  had  never  any  such  intention  ;  there  were  more 
reasons  against  it  than  he  could  have  told.  Only  one  other 
course  remained,  which  Madam  advised,  —  to  put  the  girl 
in  a  plain,  country  family  that  would  treat  her  as  one  of 
themselves,  sharing  their  simple,  hardy  living. 

Against  this  the  captain  held  out  with  a  man's  pertina 
city  in  the  face  of  advice  on  matters  where  he  knows  his 
own  ignorance,  and  in  part  through  a  romantic  sentiment 
in  behalf  of  the  girl  herself,  as  pure  as  it  was  impractica 
ble  ;  but  also  it  would  have  meant  to  him  a  confession  of 
failure,  which  he  could  have  reached  only  by  acknowledg 
ing  that  his  betrothed  was  not  equal  to  the  part  he  had 
honored  her  with. 

Yet  she  would  have  been  equal  to  so  much  else  !  Perhaps 
to  that  even,  had  it  come  later. 

It  takes  away  one's  breath  to  think  how  young  they  were, 
those  brides  of  the  New  World  on  whose  strength  of  heart 
and  brain  and  body  the  country's  life  depended.  At  what 
pathetic  ages  they  put  on  womanhood,  how  fast  the  pro 
cession  rushed  along  !  A  child  could  scarce  run  alone 
before  she  was  laced  into  frocks,  copies  of  her  mother's. 
Little  maids  of  six  or  seven  were  "  Mistress  "  So-and-So. 


94  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

At  ten  or  twelve  they  wrote  each  other  formal  little  notes 
in  the  third  person,  met  at  discreet  functions  called  "con 
stitutions,"  and  danced  minuets  in  high  headdresses  of 
feathers  and  paste  jewels,  and  drank  hot  and  cold  punch. 
At  fourteen  they  were  sought  in  marriage.  "Child,  be 
mother  to  this  child  !  "  was  no  poet's  figure,  in  those  days. 

Their  babies  died,  they  died  themselves,  in  those  cold, 
cold  churches  and  prolific  homes,  or  they  lost  their  hus 
bands  and  started  afresh  with  a  new  mate,  nothing  daunted. 

It  is  amazing  in  their  diaries  and  letters  to  note  the  rapid 
succession  of  vital  events  in  family  circles  :  the  marriage- 
feasts  and  "  sitting-up  visits  "  to  new-made  mothers  —  alas, 
how  far  too  soon  they  "  sat  up  "  !  and  the  funeral  sermon 
that  was  so  sadly  apt  to  follow.  But  they  had  something 
to  show  for  their  gray  hairs  if  they  lived  to  get  them. 
Those  posthumous  praises  of  young  wives  "  snatched  away 
in  beauty's  bloom  " —  even  though  their  husbands  did 
promptly  marry  again  —  covered  the  equivalent  of  a  long 
life  of  precious  experience,  as  life  counted  for  those  women. 

These  were  more  particularly  the  women  of  New  Eng 
land.  We  do  not  claim  for  Miss  Mary  Watts  any  conspicu 
ous  strain  of  endurance  or  aspiration,  nor  was  she  the  stuff 
that  domestic  heroines  are  made  of.  She  was  simply  a  be 
loved  beauty,  and,  like  the  rest  of  the  poor  babies,  she  was 
scarce  sixteen. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

IT  was  one  of  Madam's  days  for  receiving  company. 
A  dinner  of  courtesy  rather  than  friendship  was  to  be 
given  for  the  son  of  Sir  William  Johnson,  on  his  way  to 
England.  While  stopping  in  Albany,  he  lodged  with  the 
officers  of  the  garrison  as  their  guest.  Two  of  these  gen 
tlemen  were  bidden  with  him,  and  Madam  made  up  her 
table  from  Polly's  young  acquaintance,  the  most  genteel 
young  belles  of  the  city. 

Mr.  John  Johnson  was  not  at  this  time  entitled  to  wear 
a  uniform,  but  we  may  be  sure  that  he  was  handsomely 
dressed  and  set  up  a  good  figure,  if  money  could  help  him. 
The  officers  were  in  splendid  regimentals,  and  Polly's  girls 
were  not  more  than  a  year  behind  New  York  in  sleeves 
and  headdresses.  But,  for  their  distress  of  mind  and 
painful  enlightenment,  a  missionary  from  London  had 
just  arrived ;  and  if  not  made  and  dressed  in  Paris,  Paris 
had  inspired  her  and  she  was  spoken  of  as  "  mademoi 
selle." 

At  the  very  moment  the  girls  were  arriving,  she  stood 
with  her  arms  stuck  out,  her  feet  planted  on  the  quilted 
satin  counterpane  —  a  jointed  doll  dressed  to  exhibit  the 
extreme  of  the  mode  and  on  view  at  the  mantua-maker's, 
or  sent  forth,  as  in  this  case,  to  anxious,  intending  custom 
ers  at  a  distance  from  fashion's  centre  in  the  Colonies. 
Whether  that  was  Boston  or  Philadelphia  or  Norfolk  or 
New  York,  in  1765,  we  dare  not  say,  but  we  think  it  was 
not  Albany. 


96  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

"Hath  she  come?"  the  mayor's  daughter  whispered. 
(Who  was  the  mayor  of  Albany  in  1765  ?) 

"  Yes ;  after  dinner.  Oh,  girls,  I  can't  let  you  see  her 
before ;  you  '11  never  get  down  !  " 

So  said  Polly,  and  whisked  upstairs  to  thrust  made 
moiselle  oat  of  sight  in  her  wrappings  of  silver  paper. 

uNo,  positively  I  shall  not  give  you  a  single  peep. 
Aunt  so  hates  to  be  kept  waiting.  The  gentlemen  are  be 
low." 

Catherine  took  her  dinner  with  Charlotte  that  day,  in 
the  still-room,  herein  achieving  a  sacrifice  for  which  she 
was  thankful  ever  afterwards.  Polly  had  begged  a  place 
at  table  for  her  pet  in  the  dining-room,  Madam  leaving 
the  child  her  choice  and  beaming  on  her  with  one  of  her 
great  looks  when  strength  was  given  her  for  the  unselfish 
part. 

It  was  one  of  those  trifling  acts  that  may  go  far.  It  went 
very  far  with  Charlotte.  Up  to  a  certain  hour  it  was  one 
of  the  happiest  days  of  her  life.  Then  the  cloud  arose  and 
put  out  her  sun. 

The  children  were  kept  waiting  for  their  meal,  though 
Madam  had  seen  to  it  they  should  not  be  stinted  in  their 
retirement.  Portions  of  all  the  best  dishes  were  before 
them,  and  delicate  puddings  and  a  sweet  wine  whose  sparkle 
mounted  into  Charlotte's  eyes.  But  she  was  persuaded  by 
Catherine  to  hurry  through  with  her  fleshpots,  for  there 
were  other  joys.  They  took  up  their  station  on  the  first 
landing  of  the  staircase,  secluded  behind  a  tall  Dutch 
clock,  to  see  the  ladies  come  out,  not  thinking  that  directly 
the  dining-room  door  was  closed,  Polly  would  lead  her  flock 
of  girls  straight  up  those  very  stairs. 


THE  GREAT   ALBANY    VISIT  97 

It  was  a  pretty  crisis  for  the  watchers  on  the  landing. 

"  Come,  Catherine,"  said  Polly,  enwreathing  the  happy 
favorite  with  her  arms.  "  Come  with  us  into  my  room. 
There  's  something  mighty  fine  in  there.  Come  and  see ! 
Charlotte,  too  ?  Impossible !  You  know,  dear,"  —  in  a 
whisper,  but  Charlotte  heard,  —  "her  hands  are  never 
clean.  She  fingers  all  my  things  and  pokes  into  my  boxes. 
If  she  finds  where  mademoiselle  is  kept,  there  's  no  safety." 

So  Catherine  was  swept  in,  to  make  one  at  mademoi 
selle's  reception,  and  Charlotte,  bereaved  of  her  comrade, 
was  left  outside. 

One  may  have  a  divided  heart,  even  in  Paradise,  with 
a  pair  of  big,  longing  eyes  outside. 

"  Only  this  once,  Polly,  please !  "  Catherine's  qualm  in 
sisted.  "  She  is  very  nice  to-day.  I  saw  her  wash  her 
hands."  But  Polly  was  annoyed.  It  did  not  help  when 
one  of  the  young  ladies  offered,  "  Why,  she  is  the  pretti 
est  Indian  I  ever  saw!"  Rumor  in  cities  no  bigger  than 
Albany  was  then  can  jumble  her  facts ;  it  was  reported 
that  Captain  Yelverton  had  taken  a  young  Indian  to  bring 
up  for  a  lady's  maid  to  his  daughter. 

"  Do  let  her  come,  Polly.  She  is  as  pretty  as  a  prin 
cess." 

"  Princess  of  fiddlesticks,"  said  Polly ;  "  shut  the  door ! " 

Some  time  after,  perhaps  half  an  hour,  they  were  still 
about  the  bed  examining  stitch  by  stitch  the  doll's  ap 
parel  ;  and  the  girls  were  teasing  Polly  about  her  "  con 
quest,"  a  word  Catherine,  from  the  context,  was  unable  to 
understand,  when  a  burst  of  male  laughter  came  up  to 
them  from  the  hall. 

"  Go,  chick  !   see  what 's  a-doing  down  there,"  Polly 


98  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

whispered  to  the  child.  "  If  it 's  anything  naughty  come 
straight  back." 

She  meant  if  the  young  gentlemen  had  taken  too  much 
wine  and  were  beginning  to  show  it.  'T  was  early  for  that, 
especially  for  such  experienced  toast-drinkeps  as  the  offi 
cers  from  the  Fort.  Some  such  speech  Polly  may  have 
made,  in  the  tone  she  would  sometimes  use,  wherein  she 
showed  more  knowledge  of  the  world  than  Madam  cared 
about.  Though  Madam  took  the  manners  and  fashions 
of  her  time  with  equanimity,  she  thought  young  girls  need 
not  become  hardened  to  them ;  since,  with  a  good  hus 
band,  in  the  Provinces,  they  might  escape  such  knowledge 
altogether. 

The  three  gentlemen  who  were  her  guests  that  day  were 
in  the  hall,  and  Charlotte,  amusing  herself  as  best  she 
could,  was  seated  on  the  stairs,  her  face  pressed  against 
the  slender  mahogany  rails  of  the  banister,  on  a  level  with 
the  head  of  a  young  officer  who  was  her  vis-a-vis,  in  the 
hall  below.  He  was  putting  sugar-plums  into  her  mouth, 
—  Madam's  kitchen  produced  the  finest  variety  of  these 
confections,  —  taking  one  at  a  time  from  a  silver  dish  in 
the  hand,  a  ridiculously  unsteady  hand,  of  another  merry 
young  gentleman  in  scarlet,  and  white  satin  breeches. 
About  every  other  time,  the  expectant  mouth  would  be 
cheated  of  its  prize,  and  a  kiss  bestowed  instead. 

Catherine  watched  them,  astonished  and  fascinated  by 
this  new  game  which  had  its  pretty  side,  especially  Char 
lotte's  side.  There  were  very  nearly  as  many  of  the  kisses 
as  the  plums,  she  noted,  each  kiss  being  greeted  with 
cheers  and  laughter  from  the  plate-holder.  Charlotte  her 
self  was  entirely  serious,  intent  upon  the  plums,  and  took 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT  99 

the  kisses  as  so  much  loss  in  trade  with  those  slippery  and 
parsimonious  English.  It  was  a  frank  and  aboriginal  ex 
change  on  her  part,  and  hardly  less  so  on  the  other,  al 
lowing  for  a  little  too  much  wine. 

But  a  very  fine  line  must  be  drawn  by  actors  and  spec 
tators  in  a  game  of  this  sort ;  and  it  was  given  to  young 
Mr.  Johnson  to  step  over  it.  Every  one  of  those  girls 
meantime  had  stolen  out  to  the  stair-head.  They  saw  and 
heard  all  that  Catherine  did,  with  a  difference  of  intelli 
gence  not  altogether  in  their  favor. 

"Come,  come,"  Mr.  Johnson  was  saying,  "That  's 
enough,  sir ;  you  steal  too  many  of  the  captain's  French 
cherries.  Leave  'em  till  they  are  ripe." 

"  Ripe  ?  Try  one  for  yourself.  Damme,  they  're  ripe 
enough  for  me  !  " 

When  Polly  heard  these  remarks,  she  made  a  rush 
down  the  top  stairs,  swept  Charlotte  to  the  wall,  and  stood 
between  her  and  the  speakers. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  she,  "the  cherries  you  make  free 
with  are  under  madam,  my  aunt's  protection.  Captain 
Yelverton's  adopted  daughter  is  Madam  Schuyler's  guest. 
If  you  wish  any  more  of  the  same  entertainment,  you 
would  better  go  elsewhere.  For  my  part,  were  I  mistress 
of  this  house,  I  should  say,  the  sooner  the  better !  " 

She  placed  one  hand  on  Charlotte's  neck,  but  the  girl 
shrank  away. 

"  His  daughter,  madam,  did  I  understand  you  ?  " 

Mr.  Johnson's  face  was  as  red  as  Polly's,  as  she  stood 
there  blazing  at  him,  audaciously  beautiful.  But  the  colors 
of  rage  did  not  so  become  him. 

"I   said   his  daughter,  Mr.   Johnson.    And  whoever 


100  THE   KOYAL  AMERICANS 

doubts  Captain  Yelverton's  noble  faith  towards  this  child, 
as  towards  any  young  and  helpless  creature,  makes  an 
enemy  of  me,  his  promised  wife." 

It  was  Madam  Schuyler's  habit,  as  we  know,  to  close 
her  eyes  in  her  chair  for  a  few  moments  after  dinner. 
The  sounds  in  the  hall  had  brought  her  to  the  surface, 
however.  Her  hearing  was  more  agile  than  her  limbs.  She 
came  forth,  heavily  leaning  on  her  gold-mounted  stick ; 
billows  of  splendid  brocade  eddied  around  her.  Her  deep 
eyes  spoke  first  to  Polly,  and  then  her  deep  voice  —  with 
the  rhetorical  note  in  it  which  was  not  avoided  on  proper 
occasions,  by  even  well-bred  persons,  in  those  richer  times. 

"  Do  I  hear  my  niece  announcing  her  own  betrothal  as 
an  after-dinner  jest,  or  to  cap  a  controversy  ?  1  know  not 
what  has  incited  you,  Polly,  but  those  words  I  heard  you 
speak  just  now  cannot  stand,  my  dear.  I  call  your  atten 
tion,  gentlemen,  and  young  ladies,  to  my  definite  denial 
of  them.  I  speak  with  authority.  My  niece  hath  not  her 
parents'  consent  to  any  marriage  engagement.  And  if  she 
had,  it  could  not  be  published  in  this  fashion  without 
their  knowledge  and  support." 

Prudence  of  any  kind  was  the  least  of  Polly's  virtues, 
and  John  Johnson  had  stirred  the  blackest  depths  of  her 
passionate,  loving,  undisciplined  nature. 

"  '  Support,'  madam !  I  need  no  one's  support,  I  hope, 
to  silence  a  wicked  slander  on  the  man  I  am  to  marry. 
Published  or  not,  you  know,  aunt,  who  is  the  man !  As 
for  Mr.  Johnson,  if  't  was  not  his  own  father's  example 
that  has  taught  him  to  look  for  such  in  others,  I  pity  the 
young  gentleman  his  imagination." 

Now  all  the  world  except  children  knew  why  that  forest 


THE   GREAT  AI^NiY  VISIT          101 


beauty,  Molly  Brant,  was  mistress  afr  $loims!cv&  ;Hall,  ;and 
if  a  man  had  made  this  speech,  Sir  William's  son  might 
have  called  him  out.  No  wonder  Madam  stood  as 
tounded. 

There  was  an  old  feud,  on  grounds  of  political  prefer 
ment  in  Indian  affairs,  between  the  Schuylers  and  the 
Johnsons.  Sir  William  was  frankly  desirous  it  should 
end.  His  son's  unfortunate  attitude  toward  Philip  Schuy- 
ler  in  a  recent  election  had  been  mistaken  for  his  own. 
Colonel  Schuyler  had  listened  to  those  explanations  that 
do  not  explain  but  show  a  coming-on  disposition,  and 
Madam's  invitation  at  this  time  may  very  likely  have 
been  designed  to  further  this  wise  policy.  That  a  lady  of 
her  family,  on  such  an  occasion,  should  bandy  words  with 
Sir  William's  son,  should  drag  in  his  father's  domestic 
arrangements  to  insult  him  publicly,  even  to  pay  back  an 
insult,  was  a  scene  in  her  house  that  she  could  scarcely 
credit. 

Not  the  least  unfortunate  part  of  it  was  the  position  it 
left  her  other  guests  in :  —  the  audience  of  young  ladies  in 
the  passage  above,  the  two  officers  caught  in  a  silly  romp 
which  had  developed  into  melodrama. 

One  at  least  of  the  company  was  spared  embarrass 
ment,  —  the  unsteady  young  gentleman  who  had  spilled 
the  rest  of  the  bon-bons  but  clung  to  the  plate.  Braced 
against  the  wainscoting,  he  waved  it  to  emphasize  his 
comments  on  Polly's  interesting  announcement. 

«  Pretty  li'l  wife.  Pre'y  li'l  daughter.  Pretty  'dopted 
daugh'.  Heapin'  it  on,  for  younger  son !  Make  dashed 
big  hole  in  cap'n's  pay." 

It  would  be  curious  to  know  Charlotte's  conception  of 


102  THE  -ROYAL  AMERICANS 


this  s«£ne  and  of  *  her;  own  part  in  its  development  of 
character.  Polly's  championship,  though  it  told  her  some 
news,  in  the  better  way  failed  to  carry  conviction.  Had  it 
come  too  late,  or  did  the  anomalous  child  by  instinct  feel 
that  no  love  that  she  could  count  on  for  herself  inspired 
it  ?  All  she  thought  of,  possibly,  was  Madam's  formidable 
eyes,  and  that  she  in  some  new  way  had  offended  against 
the  rules  of  that  gilded  prison-house.  Away  with  it  all  ! 
Even  Madam  now  was  angry  ! 

She  ducked  under  Polly's  arm,  bounded  down  the 
stairs,  and  fled  the  house. 

Only  one  person  really  noticed  her,  —  the  half  -tipsy 
boy  who  called  out  in  the  manner  of  a  hunting  chorus, 
"  Gone  away  !  'Dopted  daughter  gone  away  !  Yoick,  yo- 
icks  !  "  drifting  into  "  One  cat  's  out  o'  the  bag,  —  Kits, 
cats,  sacks  and  —  " 

The  girls  at  the  stair-head  were  obliged  to  laugh,  but 
Polly  and  Madam  Schuyler  and  John  Johnson  stood  fixed 
with  eyes  for  only  each  other. 

"  Come  here  !  "  said  Madam,  striking  her  stick  on  the 
floor. 

Polly  came,  as  in  a  dream.  Her  face  was  pearl-white. 
She  slid  her  arm  within  Madam's,  and  her  low  bodice 
began  to  heave. 

"My  niece  is  a  child,  Mr.  Johnson.  She  has  not 
learned  to  hide  her  feelings.  I  do  not  ask  what  has  moved 
her  so.  I  heard  her  words  !  Such  words  demand  an  apol 
ogy  ;  though  apologies  have  not  often  been  called  for  or 
given  in  this  house.  It  is  a  child,  and  something  hath 
hurt  her  very  deep.  Forgive  it,  Polly,  and  ask  his  pardon 
in  thy  turn." 


THE   GEEAT  ALBANY  VISIT          103 

"  Never,  madam  !  Mr.  Johnson  knows  what  he  said. 
For  what  /  said,  't  was  justly  earned,  and  it  is  but  the 
truth.  Nor  have  I  heard  it  was  ever  a  subject  for  apolo 
gies." 

"It  remains  then  for  me  to  apologize  in  my  niece's 
name  for  her  words  to  a  guest  whom  it  was  intended  to 
honor." 

For  a  lady  of  Madam's  size  and  years  it  was  no  trifling 
feat  to  perform  a  curtsy  such  as  she  swept  before  Mr. 
Johnson,  who  returned  it  with  his  lowest  bow  ;  the  soberer 
of  the  two  officers  repeating  the  same,  ceremoniously,  and 
saving  his  comrade  from  falling  at  her  feet  with  the 
ingenuous  idea  that  he  was  producing  a  successful  copy. 

Polly  curtsied  also,  which  was  the  extent  of  her  apol 
ogy- 

"  Young  ladies,  will  you  be  pleased  to  join  us  ?  We 
shall  have  our  coffee  directly.  Mr.  Johnson,  will  you  give 
me  your  arm  ?  " 

Polly's  neglected  girls,  who  had  not  lacked  entertain 
ment,  came  demurely  down  the  stairs  and  followed  Madam 
into  the  drawing-room.  Caesar  helped  the  incapacitated 
guest  to  the  dining-room  couch.  Little  Catherine  hung 
about  in  the  hall  a  while  and  wandered  out  in  search 
of  Charlotte.  Nowhere  within  Madam's  inclosures  could 
she  be  seen.  The  servants  were  all  too  busy  to  answer 
questions.  She  returned  to  the  house. 

Polly  was  standing  near  the  front-hall  door,  facing  Mr. 
Johnson,  who  could  be  seen  in  profile  while  her  face  was 
in  full  light.  She  appeared  to  be  listening  without  meet 
ing  his  eyes,  which  were  fastened  on  her  as  if  he  never 
expected  to  see  her  again. 


104  THE  KOYAL  AMERICANS 

Catherine  sat  down  on  the  lowest  step  outside. 

"  It  is  something  at  least  to  know  this  news  lacks  con- 
firmation." 

44  What  news  do  you  speak  of  ?  " 

"  Can  you  ask  ?  That  Mistress  Polly  Watts  has  made 
her  choice  of  a  husband  is  the  news.  That  it  has  been 
contradicted  is  the  straw  a  drowning  man  may  catch  at." 

'*  A  drowning  man  !  " 

44  I  am  the  man,  who  drowns  in  sight  of  the  shore  he  can 
not  reach ;  who  discovers  a  heavenly  country  only  to  find 
another  in  possession.  Is  there  any  room  for  doubt  in  your 
own  mind,  madam  ?  " 

"  You  are  beyond  me,  sir  !  " 

"  In  plain  words,  your  own  choice  at  least  may  not  be 
shaken?" 

44  Mr.  Johnson  states  a  fact  on  the  very  best  authority." 

Polly  curtsied,  with  her  fan  open  against  her  breast, 
and  clashed  it  shut  as  she  rose.  She  was  pale,  but  at  a 
most  perfect  moment  of  her  beauty  :  proud,  tremulous,  tired, 
a  child  with  deep  waters  threatening  her.  Mr.  Johnson 
looked  savage  and  distressed. 

44  My  unlucky  barrack  jest,  that  you  chanced  to  over 
hear,  I  wish  to  say,  fiery  torments  could  not  have  torn  from 
me  had  I  known  I  was  honored  with  such  a  listener.  I  am 
sorry  for  the  offense  that  was  taken.  If  'twill  atone  to 
say,  I  envy  Captain  Edmund  Yelverton  of  all  men  on 
earth  —  " 

44 Not  in  the  least,  sir!  It  adds  to  the  offense,  as  I 
think  you  intend  it  should.  If  I  have  been  too  free,  sure 
you  have  taken  your  revenge.  Farewell,  Mr.  Johnson  !  you 
and  I  are  in  no  mood  to-day  to  better  our  acquaintance." 


THE  GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT          105 

Catherine,  on  the  steps,  heard  a  satin  waistcoat  creak. 
Mr.  Johnson  was  making  his  final  bow  to  Polly,  who  could 
be  heard  rustling  swiftly  up  the  stairs.  Where  he  went 
Catherine  did  not  see.  She  was  so  fearful  he  would  come 
out  and  speak  to  her  that  she  stole  away  around  the  house 
and  slipped  up  the  back  stairs  to  the  empty  spinning-room. 
There  she  waited  until  the  visitors  were  gone.  From  the 
window  presently  she  could  see  Madam  walking  up  and 
down  the  garden  slowly,  with  a  grave,  still  face. 


CHAPTER  XV 

'  THERE  was  a  little  new  moon  at  twilight,  and  Venus 
was  the  evening  star.  Catherine  hung  over  the  box  hedge 
above  the  haha,  looking  at  its  sharp,  clear  reflection  in 
a  ditch  that  crept  along  sluggishly  below  the  garden  wall. 
It  had  been  dug  so  many  years  that  the  meadow  had 
adopted  it  for  its  own,  and  lavishly  trimmed  it  as  a  fond 
mother  dresses  her  child,  with  borderings  of  blue  iris, 
strayed  from  the  gardens,  or  wild  celandine  and  crow's 
foot)  and  the  spotted  leaves  of  the  dog-tooth  violet.  It  seeped 
through  the  grass  in  places,  and  blue  violets  followed  its 
footsteps.  Where  it  crept  under  a  division  fence,  a  mass 
of  rank  skunk  cabbage  grew. 

In  many  respects  a  ditch  has  more  personal  history  than 
a  running  brook.  It  has  at  least  its  reflections,  doubling 
its  own  beauty,  to  make  up  for  its  want  of  a  voice.  The 
silence  of  the  ditch  allowed  the  meadow  to  speak.  It  lay 
there  like  a  sounding-board,  for  the  life  of  the  town  and 
the  life  of  the  woods  beyond.  Voices  of  children  playing  in 
distant  lanes  and  streets,  voices  of  birds  settling  their  young 
for  the  night,  cows  going  back  to  pasture,  the  subtle  whis 
pers  soft  winds  may  make,  with  leaves  of  an  infinite  variety 
and  multitude  to  listen  and  nod  and  answer.  Now  and  then 
a  shiver  passed  over  the  ditch  and  blurred  the  moon's  image. 

Charlotte  had  told  her  playmate  once  that  her  name  in 
the  tribe  she  lived  with  meant  "Moon  in  the  Lake."  And 
Catherine  was  thinking  that  Charlotte's  moon  would  be  a 
little  one,  like  this  sharp,  clear  crescent  —  when,  silent  as 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT          107 

a  ghost,  Charlotte  herself  rose  up  from  the  grass  on  the 
meadow-side. 

She  was  wrapped  in  an  old  cloak  Madam  had  given  her, 
which  she  would  wear  blanket-wise  over  her  head  in  the  rain. 
It  was  thrown  back  from  her  shoulders,  but  drawn  close 
about  her  body,  hiding  even  her  hands.  Her  feet  were  con 
cealed  in  the  grass,  she  wore  no  cap,  and  the  long  braids 
of  her  black  hair  hung  down  over  her  breast.  The  light  was 
behind  her,  showing  the  shape  of  her  smooth  head,  but  not 
the  expression  of  her  face,  turned  upward  in  silence. 

"  Charlotte !  Oh,  Charlotte,  I  am  so  glad !  " 

Catherine's  arms  went  out  to  her  friend  with  honest  eager 
ness.  The  feeling  had  come  at  last,  so  often  striven  for 
toward  Charlotte.  She  wanted  her.  But  the  girl  did  not 
speak  or  move. 

Catherine  ran  down  a  path  inside  the  hedge  to  a  little 
foot-bridge  that  crossed  into  the  meadow,  reaching  it  by  two 
or  three  steps  on  the  other  side  guarded  by  a  handrail.  She 
and  Charlotte  had  made  of  these  steps  one  of  their  favor 
ite  seats  looking  out  over  the  meadow.  Yes,  they  had  been 
very  happy  together  at  times,  with  a  sort  of  companionship 
that  left  a  good  taste  in  the  mouth  and  a  desire  for  more. 

"  Come  back,"  said  Charlotte  beckoning.  She  had  not 
moved.  As  she  would  not  come  to  meet  her,  Catherine  ran, 
back.  ) 

"  Come  over,  Charlotte ;  come  home  !  Are  n't  you  coming 
home  to-night  ?  " 

"Where  ees  'home'?" 

"  This  house  is  home  to  us  now.  Madam  wants  you." 

44  No :  Madam  not  want  to  keep  me.  'Manda  says  that. 
I  believe,  though,  she  tell  lies." 


108  THE  KOYAL  AMERICANS 

"  When  my  father  has  a  home  for  us,  that  will  be  your 
home  too." 

"  Will  it  be  home  for  Polly  Watt  ?  " 

Catherine  was  staggered  by  the  question.  She  could  not 
honestly  say  no,  she  was  forbidden  to  say  yes,  and  she  knew 
somehow  that  yes  would  be  disastrous  to  her  object  in  this 
interview. 

But  Charlotte  knew  —  everybody  knew  —  the  servants 
first  of  all. 

"  Polly  going  be  hees  woman.  He  her  man.  I  will  not 
to  live  wiz  Polly.  Three  English  peopl'  I  love."  She 
checked  off  those  persons  on  the  fingers  of  one  hand.  "  Eng 
lish  father,  English  daughter,  English  madam.  Father, 
never  come !  I  see  heem  no  more.  Daughter  go  away." 
(How  had  Charlotte  arrived  at  that  fact,  but  just  known 
to  Catherine  herself  ?)  "  Madam  —  she  too  old.  Got  too 
many  peopl'  now.  When  goes  my  sister  away  from 
here?" 

Catherine  did  not  know. 

"  I  go  now  —  now  is  best  time  —  to-night.  I  cannot  to 
live  wiz  Polly  pink-face  !  " 

"  Polly  will  love  you  after  she  learns  how.  I  did  n't  love 
you  much,  at  first,  Charlotte ;  but  now  I  do." 

"Ugh!"  said  Charlotte.  " My  Injun  mother  feel  her 
pain  here  bad,  when  they  take  me  away.  She  run  een  the 
woods  all  day,  all  night  —  howl,  howl !  She  don'  have  to 
learn !  She  give  me  all  thing  best  what  she  got.  Injun  very 
poor.  White  fathers  take  all  away.  Put  on  me  white  woman 
clothes ;  I  say  to  father-captain,  send  all  back  of  mine  to 
Injun  mother ;  say  thees  her  white  child  dead. 

"  Now  I  go  in  mountains.  I  find  big  ocean-river.    My 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT          109 

Injun  mother  be  very  glad  see  me.  She  not  have  to '  learn ! ' 
Good-by,  white  sister,  I  always  like  you" 

"Don't  say  white  sister.  You  are  white,  Charlotte." 

"  Mebbe,  —  /  do'  know.  Don'  matter  now." 

"  But  I  love  you,  whatever  we  are.  It  does  n't  matter  to 
me.  Do  come  back  !  " 

"  Which  you  love  best  ?  Me  ?  Polly  ?  " 

"  I  love  you  both." 
f    "  Can't  love  both  best.  Which  ?  " 
:     "  I  love  you  both  f  Everybody  loves  more  than  one  per 
son." 

"  I  know !  Me,  you  like,  when  it  is  no  have  Polly.  When 
it  is  have  Polly — no  like  me.  By  'm  by  have  Polly  all  time, 
every  day,  same  house.  I  go  'way !  " 

f  "  Wait,  do  wait  a  minute  !  I  must  tell  Madam.  She 
will  talk  to  you  —  better  than  I  can,  Charlotte.  She  cares 
for  you  very,  very  much." 

"  Ah,  bah ! "  said  Charlotte.  "  Madam  care  for  eve'y- 
body  —  I  don'  want  that !  " 

If  she  meant  charity,  there  was  indeed  something  in  her 
plea,  at  her  hopeless  age,  when  she  looked  back  at  the  wild 
heart's  love  she  had  left. 

She  threw  off  her  cloak,  and  there  she  stood,  a  little 
trim  wood-maid,  in  leggings  and  tunic  that  mud  and  water 
would  not  spoil  and  close  embracings  of  the  forest  paths 
that  were  soon  to  take  her  back,  could  not  deface.  She 
rolled  the  cloak  into  a  loose  ball  and  shot  it  across  the 
ditch.  It  lodged  on  the  hedge  and  unfolded,  hanging  down 
like  a  dejected  human  body. 

It  cannot  be  described  in  words,  the  beauty  of  her  ges 
ture  as  she  lifted  both  bare  arms,  hands  upward,  her  face  to 


110  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  Our  great  Father,  be  good  to  fath'-captain,  be  good  to 
little  sister,  be  good  to  good,  good  madam !  Take  care  all 
thees  good  folk." 

"  Won't  you  say,  «  Be  good  to  Polly,'  too  ?  Won't  you, 
Charlotte  ! " 

"  Polly  be  dam !  "  said  Charlotte.  "  You  stay  there," 
she  commanded,  with  a  sweep  of  her  hand.  "  Be  still. 
Watch  me.  When  my  sister  hear,  over  long-side  meadow 
by  woods,  one  whip-poor-will  three  times  call,  —  go  back, 
then.  Say  good-by  me  to  Madam.  Say  good-by  to  father- 
captain.  I  always  hees  child.  I  always  dy  sister !  " 

So  she  went,  not  without  a  secret  sob  in  her  throat. 
There  was  a  quite  open  one  in  Catherine's.  She  wiped  her 
tears  alone  by  the  hedge,  till  across  the  meadow,  now  cov 
ered  with  darkness,  she  heard  three  times  a  whip-poor-will 
cry. 

The  little  moon  was  set ;  the  ditch  no  longer  held  her 
golden  gleam.  And  like  an  effigy  of  abortive  human  en 
deavor,  the  suicidal  cloak  dragged  downward  toward  the 
black  still  water. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

WE  cannot  doubt  that  Polly  owned  her  indiscretion  as 
soon  as  a  letter  to  her  parents  could  carry  the  confession  ; 
but  gossip  doubtless  found  ways  to  inform  them  just  as 
soon,  or  sooner.  They  were  exceedingly  angry  with  the  in 
cident,  and  their  wrath  fell  upon  Polly. 

She  was  sent  home,  and  the  premature  announcement 
of  her  engagement  was  recalled  with  more  decisiveness  than 
consideration  for  Polly's  feelings  or  her  lover's.  The  main 
thing  was  to  get  it  denied  and  stop  the  talking.  For  by 
this  time  Mr.  Watts  had  new  misgivings  in  regard  to  his 
would  be  son-in-law. 

Mr.  John  Johnson  had  gone  to  New  York  on  his  way 
to  England  with  Sir  Adam  Gordon,  who  had  conceived  a 
great  friendship  for  Sir  William  during  a  visit  to  Johnson 
Hall,  and  had  invited  his  son  to  accompany  him  home ;  or, 
whether  invited  or  no,  the  young  man  was  going.  But  he 
found  time  to  follow  up  his  "  barrack-room  jest "  with 
insinuations  to  match  it,  in  the  clubs  and  coffee-rooms, 
and  over  the  wine  when  the  cloth  was  drawn.  Very  likely 
he  believed  his  own  way  of  putting  the  story  of  Captain 
Yelverton  and  his  white  captive.  There  was  nothing  in  his 
education  or  acquaintance  with  men  to  make  it  appear  mon 
strous  or  unusual.  Quite  unworldly  persons  were  prepared 
to  believe  almost  any  charge  of  this  sort  against  one  of 
His  Majesty's  officers  in  America.  They  had  given  but  too 
good  cause  for  such  belief. 

Mr.  John  Johnson  went  to  England  and  was  knighted 


112  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

for  his  father's  sake,  by  the  king ;  but  he  was  the  same 
John  Johnson  and  he  left  a  trail  of  scandal  behind  him  in 
New  York  which  effectually  poisoned  the  mind  of  worthy 
Mr.  Watts  against  the  man  whom  Mr.  Johnson  regarded 
secretly  as  his  rival. 

How  the  matter  finally  came  out,  we  will  leave  Captain 
Yelverton  to  say  in  his  own  words  to  his  daughter's  guar 
dian  and  his  own  best  friend.  Of  the  last  charge  against 
him,  conveyed  in  an  unfortunate  correspondence  between 
himself  and  Mr.  Watts,  he  says  nothing  in  this  or  in  any 
subsequent  statement. 

Omitting  the  opening  sentences  on  general  topics,  he 
begins,  — 

"  As  the  matter  is  now  public,  and  told  on  all  sides,  I 
would  have  my  dear  old  friend  to  hear  from  myself  what 
hath  ended  the  prospect  of  marriage  between  me  and  Mis 
tress  Polly  Watts. 

"  Mr.  Watts  had  given  his  consent  pending  a  few  con 
siderations  relating  to  settlements  ;  and  I  may  permit  my 
self  here  to  say  I  had  not  expected  that  a  gentleman  who 
gives  his  daughter  no  portion  on  her  marriage  (which  I 
neither  asked  nor  looked  for)  should  be  so  particular  to 
cross-examine  a  pretender  as  to  his  incomes  and  expecta 
tions.  He  required  of  me  in  so  many  words,  whether  my 
daughter  was  provided  for  in  her  own  right  or  must  look 
to  me  only,  now  and  hereafter.  I  put  up  with  this  catechis 
ing,  though  little  accustomed  to  turn  out  my  private  affairs 
on  demand.  That  was  some  months  agone.  But  when  I 
took  from  the  prisoners  at  Carlisle  this  girl  Charlotte  for 
my  share  in  humanity's  debt  to  those  poor  creatures,  all 
was  to  be  threshed  over  again. 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT          113 

*  "  You  will  perceive  I  am  a  trifle  roused,  sir.  There  are 
matters  underneath  it  would  be  unworthy  of  us  both  to 
touch  upon.  [This  no  doubt  was  an  allusion  to  the  charges 
he  ignored.]  Had  it  been  possible  to  consult  them,  I  owed 
it  to  my  affianced  and  her  family  to  have  done  so  before 
charging  myself  with  this  new  liability ;  but  't  was  not 
possible,  so  short  was  the  time  for  decision.  And  a  man's 
past  is  his  own,  and  the  dues  it  lays  him  under. 

"  The  question  now  arose,  how  far  this  new  responsi 
bility  might  impinge  on  those  that  antedate  it.  I  was 
willing  to  risk  my  child's  prospects  in  a  worldly  sense 
even  with  this  poor  lost  one  to  share  our  means.  With 
God  and  her  own  dear  mother  looking  down  from  heaven, 
could  I  dicker  about  bed  and  board  ?  or  a  few  guineas 
here  and  there  to  clothe  her  mind  and  body  ?  And  how 
could  I  think  my  young  bride  would  hold  back  from  a 
woman's  part  in  whatever  sacrifices  might  be  called  for  ? 
—  nor  did  she,  at  the  first.  It  was  her  father  interposed 
with  his  just,  I  own,  and  natural  solicitude  for  one  so  ten 
derly  nurtured. 

"  But,  sir,  to  demand  of  me  a  promise  before  I  knew 
my  own  mind  as  to  the  girl,  that  I  would  not  give  her  my 
name  or  the  rights  of  a  daughter  in  my  property,  was 
asking  too  much.  I  refused  to  declare  my  testamentary 
intentions  —  in  short  to  make  my  will  at  his  dictation.  I 
do  not  know  what  the  future  may  demand  of  me,  nor 
what  property  I  may  possess. 

"  Mr.  Watts  thereupon  withdrew  his  consent  to  the 
marriage.  This  was  before  Mistress  Watts  went  up  to 
her  aunt  in  Albany.  She  was  with  me  then  in  sympathy. 
She  would  have  had  our  engagement  made  public,  was 


114  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

even  ready  to  marry  me  without  her  father's  consent.  But 
I  would  never  take  that  way  of  showing  my  love  for  a 
woman  again. 

"  I  do  not  speak  of  this  to  boast,  —  merely  to  spare  the 
thought  that  my  dear  girl  was  in  the  least  degree  mercen 
ary,  or  even  prudent. 

"  No,  the  difference  between  us  began  when  she  saw 
Charlotte  and  realized  her  deficiencies,  and  doubted  her  own 
ability  to  meet  the  demand  of  such  a  charge  as  the  girl  was 
like  to  be,  for  a  few  years  at  least.  I  begged  her  to  think 
what  miracles  love  and  patience  may  accomplish.  She 
very  frankly  owned  the  love  in  this  case  was  wanting.  I 
trusted  she  would  be  able  to  conquer  her  aversion  to 
those  savage  ways  which  undoubtedly  would  change.  With 
such  great  personal  attractions  Charlotte  would  early  be 
sought  in  marriage  (as  she  hath  been  already,  child  as 
she  is)  ;  and  when  the  proper  husband  could  be  found 
for  her,  all  would  go  as  nature  intended,  and  a  Christian 
family  started  instead  of  a  brood  of  treacherous  half- 
breeds. 

"  Things  were  going  thus  when  Charlotte  must  run  away 
and  could  not  be  found  without  measures  taken  involving 
some  expense.  Here  Mr.  Watts  again  interfered  in  his 
daughter's  name,  demanding  that  I  give  up  the  search  and 
content  myself  with  leaving  well  enough  alone. 

"  I  wrote  him  that  his  ideas  of  well  and  enough  were 
not  the  same  as  mine ;  and  in  this  affair  't  was  for  me  to 
judge  what  my  duty  required  of  me. 

"  He  desired  me  then  to  understand  that  the  alternative 
was  before  me  :  to  choose  between  the  captive  maid  I  was 
4  pursuing'  and  his  daughter,  my  affianced  bride.  I  replied 


THE   GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT          115 

that  no  such  alternative  could  present  itself,  barring  his 
daughter  herself  so  put  it  to  me.  Which  I  grieve  to  say- 
she  did.  And  I  had  no  choice. 

"  Between  one  so  beloved  and  cherished,  with  a  home 
and  father  and  mother,  scores  of  friends  and  powerful  con 
nections,  and  her  choice  for  a  husband  of  the  best  in  the 
land,  and  that  lost  child  I  had  taken  to  my  keeping  and 
done  so  ill  by  that  she  had  flung  herself  back  on  savagery 
—  need  I  say,  sir,  which  of  those  two  knocked  on  my  con 
science  the  hardest  ?  I  was  forced  to  open  to  her  that  had 
not  where  to  lay  her  head  —  who,  God  knows,  can  never 
requite  me  for  one  hour  of  the  suffering  she  hath  inno 
cently  caused. 

"  Do  not  say  I  forsook  my  love !  My  word  is  given  to 
Miss  Mary  Watts :  I  hold  myself  in  marriage  at  her  dis 
posal  if  ever  she  will  take  me. 

"  If  not,  I  remain  as  I  am :  she  to  be  free  ;  I  bound,  as 
so  it  should  be,  since  't  was  I  thrust  my  years  [the  captain 
was  thirty-two]  and  sorrowful  experience  into  her  fresh 
young  life.  A  maid  of  her  years  will  soon  forget  a  man  of 
mine. 

"  Here  endeth  my  second  and  last  experiment  in  happi 
ness  through  love  of  woman. 

"  Do  I  speak  of  my  first  love  as  an  experiment !  Nay, 
dear  God,  it  was  heaven  itself  while  it  lasted.  But  at  what 
price !  And  't  was  she,  my  dearest,  that  paid  the  price." 

Family  records  show  that  before  he  sold  his  commission 
and  settled  in  America,  Captain  Yelverton  was  raised  to 
a  lieutenant-colonelcy  ;  probably  at  the  close  of  Pontiac's 
war  when  his  chief  was  made  brigadier-general  and  took 


116  THE  KOYAL   AMERICANS 

such  pains  to  praise  the  conduct  of  his  officers  in  the  Ohio 
campaign. 

Gallant  Bouquet  died  the  following  autumn,  at  Pensa- 
cola.  And  a  year  later  we  find  the  captain,  now  colonel, 
buckling  down  to  the  management  of  an  estate  bigger 
than  his  brother's  in  England.  He  would  catch  up  with 
that  elder  brother,  and  be  a  richer  man  than  he,  if  his  rela 
tives,  who  had  money  to  lend,  could  be  made  to  see  the 
speculative  value  of  colonial  lands,  as  Phil  Schuyler  could 
show  them  in  his  admirable  estate  at  Schuylerville. 

A  fine  boyish  set  of  quarrels  had  sprung  up  on  the  north 
western  borders  of  New  York  (though  why  confine  our 
selves  to  the  north  and  west,  when  there  was  Connecticut 
east  of  the  Hudson !).  The  colonel  had  chosen  his  lands 
on  the  very  edge  of  the  fight,  but  was  himself  within  — 
very  safely  within  —  the  undisputed  jurisdiction  of  New 
York.  But  he  had  a  friend  who  was  setting  up  to  be  an 
English  autocrat  in  America,  and  had  planted  himself  on 
one  of  the  Hampshire  Grants  quite  openly  in  dispute.  The 
Crown,  which  was  very  civil  to  loyal  New  York,  hoping  to 
bind  her  allegiance  to  itself  "  while  the  bolts  were  round 
her  hurled !  "  —  the  Crown  had  declared  the  western  banks 
of  the  Connecticut  River  to  be  the  boundary  line  between 
New  Hampshire  and  New  York.  New  York  now  proceeded 
to  make  the  words  "  to  be  "  retroactive,  bringing  back  to 
her  all  those  grants  bearing  Governor  Wentworth's  signa 
ture,  covering  the  territory  involved  in  this  final  though 
late  decision. 

In  many  cases  these  had  been  settled  and  improved  by 
grantees  who  were  supposed  to  be  anxious  for  annexation. 
There  might  have  been,  if  not  readiness,  at  least  indiffer- 


THE  GREAT  ALBANY  VISIT  117 

ence  to  the  change,  had  New  York  not  insisted  that  these 
persons  should  either  surrender  or  repurchase  their  lands. 
Judgments  were  found  in  the  New  York  courts,  and  writs 
of  ejectment  served.  To  enforce  them  was  another  matter. 

And  here  the  colonel's  friend  came  in,  as  a  landowner 
and  justice  of  the  peace,  to  coerce  these  hardheaded  moun 
taineers  and  bible-read  riflemen  of  the  border,  as  he  would 
the  tenantry  of  Old  England. 

In  spite  of  "  pipe  and  mug  "  and  horse  and  gun  and  his 
own  fire  of  logs  to  sit  by,  our  colonel  was  ground  by 
his  thoughts  in  his  forest  solitude ;  unskilled  labor  nagged 
him  in  every  department  of  his  wide  domain.  A  man  of 
aristocratic  habits  and  military  training,  he  could  not 
brook  the  rustic  familiarities  of  his  neighbors.  While  he 
acknowledged  their  cleverness  and  many  virtues  as  citi 
zens  and  heads  of  families,  at  his  own  table  he  preferred 
even  the  vices  of  his  own  class  to  the  virtues  of  these 
thorny  Puritans. 

He  threw  himself  with  irritable  glee  into  his  old  friend's 
quarrels,  frying  out  his  own  fat,  as  the  saying  is,  at  an 
other  man's  fire. 

It  was  in  1767,  or  thereabouts,  that  Ethan  Allen,  ad 
vised  by  the  officials  in  Albany  to  persuade  the  men  of 
the  Grants  to  make  the  best  terms  they  could  with  New 
York,  replied  in  his  famous  use  of  the  Scriptures,  "  The 
gods  of  the  valleys  are  not  the  gods  of  the  hills  ;  "  and  if 
they  wanted  to  know  what  he  meant,  let  them  come  to 
Bennington  Hill  and  it  would  be  made  plain  to  them. 

But  several  years  more  were  to  pass  before  powder  and 
bullets  made  it  plainer  still. 


BOOK  III 

CATHEKINE  CHOOSES  HEK  COUNTRY 


CHAPTER  XVII 

RAIN  over  night  had  freshened  the  air  of  a  June  morn 
ing,  leaving  a  glitter  of  puddles  in  hollow  places  of  the 
un paved  street.  The  year  was  1773,  and  the  day,  accord 
ing  to  the  religious  forms  that  divided  the  good  citizens  of 
New  York,  was  the  Sabbath,  Sunday,  or  First  Day. 

Between  the  old  Presbyterian  and  Quaker  meeting 
houses,  Nassau  Street  was  nearly  emptied  of  worshipers 
gone  home  to  their  midday  dinners  ;  but  two  young  women 
of  the  First  Day  persuasion,  to  judge  by  their  dress,  ap 
peared  to  have  been  detained.  No  other  member  of  the 
Friends'  congregation  was  in  sight. 

A  young  officer  in  full  church  uniform,  who  had  amused 
himself  watching  the  pretty  Quaker  girls  come  out  of  meet 
ing,  kept  step  with  them,  far  enough  ahead  to  give  his 
saucy  eyes  a  glimpse  inside  their  "  coal-scuttle  "  bonnets. 
His  dress  sword  plunged  against  the  nearest  gray  silk 
gown,  and  once  the  wearer  stopped  and  faced  him ;  but 
she  was  the  loser  at  that  game.  She  could  only  hurry  on 
again,  almost  in  tears  from  rage,  with  cheeks  pinker  than 
before. 

A  fourth  actor  now  stepped  into  the  scene  from  a  door 
way  on  the  corner  of  King  Street,  quite  as  if  he  had  been 
waiting  for  his  cue.  He  took  that  side  of  the  walk  which 
would  bring  him  into  collision  with  the  officer  if  both  at 
tempted  to  occupy  it  at  the  same  time,  and  came  on  coolly, 
as  if  no  one  were  there. 

The  officer  raised  a  slim  cane  he  carried,  and  aimed  a 


122  THE  KOYAL  AMERICANS 

flick  at  his  opponent's  face,  inviting  him  to  get  into  the 
street  where  he  belonged,  with  language  common  to  mili 
tary  and  other  gentlemen  of  the  time.  The  girls  shrank 
back,  the  briefest  of  scuffles  followed,  and  Lieutenant  Wil- 
ford  of  the  Light  Horse  shot  into  the  street  and  down  on 
hands  and  knees  in  a  pool  of  undried  mud. 

The  young  civilian  bowed  to  the  Quaker  ladies.  He 
stood  aside  for  them  to  pass.  The  short  one,  who  was 
trembling,  implored  him,  "  Won't  thee  please  to  run  ? 
Please!  Catherine  and  I  will  speak  to  him." 

He  showed  his  white  teeth  like  a  boy.  The  young  woman 
called  Catherine  —  she  who  had  nearly  cried  with  rage  — 
laughed  with  him.  A  little  shudder  at  the  same  time  ran 
down  her  spine. 

"  Gracious  goodness  !  "  said  her  companion,  "  that  offi 
cer  has  drawn  his  sword  !  " 

"  He  only  wants  to  beat  him  with  it."  Catherine  pulled 
her  out  of  the  way.  "  But  I  mistake  if  he  gets  the 
chance." 

"  I  am  going  to  call  the  watch." 

"  Mercy,  be  still!  Do  you  want  to  put  him  in  jail?  " 

"Him?" 

"  Why,  of  course  it  will  not  be  the  officer !  " 

They  saw  the  young  countryman  throw  off  his  plain  coat 
and  beaver  ;  he  guarded  and  caught  the  other's  sword-arm 
and  held  him  locked  in  a  wrestler's  grip,  both  arms  pin 
ioned  to  his  sides. 

"  Will  you  put  up  your  sword,  sir  ?  "  the  victor  panted 
lightly.  "I  did  but  hand  back  what  you  gave  me.  If  you 
say  « Enough,'  I  shall  let  go.  If  you  want  best,  I  can  throw 
you  in  two  seconds." 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  123 

"  Fellows,  set  me  down !  "  a  voice  from  a  sedan  chair 
roared  to  its  bearers.  Out  of  it  burst  another  splendid  uni 
form,  on  a  big  man  who  ounzed  and  zounzed,  demanding 
by  his  blood  what  dashed  devilry  was  this,  and  who  dared 
raise  his  hand  against  a  King's  officer. 

The  young  men  parted  rather  sheepishly,  and  both 
bowed  low  to  Colonel  Duns  table  (or  was  it  Haldimand?), 
commandant  at  Fort  William,  on  his  way,  obviously,  to 
fine  company  and  a  good  dinner. 

It  was  this  pause  which  the  young  woman  called  Cath 
erine  made  use  of  to  obtrude  herself.  She  seemed  indiffer 
ent  to  the  surprise  she  caused,  and  equally  to  the  contrast 
between  her  meek  dress  and  decided  behavior. 

To  the  colonel  she  bowed  ceremoniously,  and  turning 
at  once  held  out  her  hand  to  her  champion,  with  a  blush 
and  a  smile  that  were  equal  to  a  decoration  pinned  on  the 
breast  of  him  lucky  enough  to  win  it. 
.  The  young  man  gave  her  one  strong,  astonished  stare 
while  he  held  her  hand.  Sweet  faces  and  pure  and  gentle 
ones  are  framed  in  the  modest  halo  of  a  Quaker  bonnet, 
but  this  girl  had  not  the  indescribable  Quaker  look,  still 
less  the  Quaker  bearing. 

To  the  colonel  she  now  turned,  addressing  him  by 
name. 

"  If  this  gentleman  is  to  be  held  for  what  has  passed  be 
tween  him  and  His  Majesty's  subaltern,  my  friend  and  I, 
sir,  —  I,  at  least,  —  desire  to  be  his  witness.  The  question 
was  asked,  '  Who  raised  his  hand  against  a  King's  officer ' : 
I  can  swear,  sir  —  " 

"  Swear ! "  the  colonel  interjected  with  a  great  rude 
laugh.  "  When  did  ever  a  Quakeress  swear  ?  «  Thy  speech 


124  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

bewrayeth  thee,'  madam.  Put  off  that  bonnet  and  show 
us  who  you  are,  my  pretty  masker !  Come,  come !  " 

"  Colonel,"  said  the  girl,  blushing  with  anger,  "  the 
dress  I  wear  at  least  should  save  me  from  derision.  As  to 
why  I  wear  it,  I  am  but  just  come  from  England,  and  I 
think,  sir,  it  is  my  father  should  hear  my  story  first. 
Would  you  by  chance  have  remembered  a  little  girl  aboard 
the  troop-ship,  going  over,  seven  years  ago,  daughter  of 
Captain  Yelverton  of  the  Royal  American  regiment  ?  You 
were  major  then  ;  you  gave  me  a  gold  Jacobus  to  wear  on 
a  ribbon  ;  I  have  it  yet." 

The  charming  face  inside  the  bonnet  lost  its  vexation 
in  a  smile  as  frank  as  it  was  sweet. 

"  Why,  good  Gad !  Let  me  ha'  another  look  at  thee, 
child !  Can  this  be  the  little  Turk  that  used  to  '  major ' 
me,  all  over  the  ship  !  '  Major,  your  hand,  please  ! '  '  Catch 
me,  major,  I  'm  coming  now  ! '  when  the  decks  were  tip 
ping,  and  come  it  was,  by  George !  With  a  face  as  pink 
in  the  wind  —  as  it  is  this  minute,  ha,  ha !  —  Why,  of 
course  I  know  thy  father,  Ned  Yelverton  !  I  remember  him 
well  enough,  but  damme  if  I  knew  he  'd  turned  Quaker. 
He  was  far  enough  from  it  when  I  knew  him !  " 

Catherine  was  laughing  as  well  as  blushing,  and  the  ten 
sion  all  around  gave  way  before  the  colonel's  reminiscences. 

"  He  has  not  turned  Quaker  —  nor  I,  colonel.  But  my 
clothes  are  behind  me  in  England,  and  cannot  catch  up 
till  next  packet." 

"  Hast  got  no  clothes  in  America,  lass  ?  Why,  my  wife 
—  damme,  to  be  sure  she  is  about  thrice  thy  size  —  " 

"  No,  no !  Thanks,  colonel.  I  am  well  enough  for  the 
present.  Some  kind  Quaker  friends  brought  me  over  in 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  125 

their  party ;  I  am  with  them  still,  and  still  wearing  bor 
rowed  clothes  while  some  of  my  own  are  making.  There  's 
the  simple  truth,  sir." 

"But  not  all  the  truth,  I  bet  a  guinea!  Never  a  girl 
yet  left  her  fal-lals  behind  her,  unless  she  went  after  some 
thing  she  liked  better.  What  would  that  be,  eh?  Hast 
run  away  to  get  married  ?  Not  to  a  Quaker,  I  hope.  God 
a  mercy !  that  would  stagger  thy  father." 

"No,  colonel,  I  have  run  away  to  my  father.  There  is 
the  worst  that  has  happened,  so  far.  But  let  me  speak 
now,  for  the  sake  of  this  young  man  to  whom  my  friend 
and  I  are  much  beholden.  Or,  perhaps  you,  sir," — the 
lieutenant  bowed,  — "  will  be  gallant  enough  to  speak 
yourself  and  say  why  you  were  incommoded,  and  who  it 
was  struck  first  ?  " 

Thus  squarely  challenged  by  Beauty  in  a  fair  cause  that 
went  against  him,  the  young  officer  spoke  up  with  what 
grace  he  might,  though  not  sparing  a  back-hander. 

"  Between  myself  and  this  young-a-drover,  I  own  't  is 
six  of  one  to  half  a  dozen  of  t'  other.  But  as  to  the  ladies, 
colonel,  I  call  your  own  eyes  to  witness,  —  either  the  bon 
nets  or  the  faces,  in  charity  to  all  men,  should  be  left 
at  home.  Taken  together  I  swear  the  provocation  is  too 
much !  " 

Catherine  turned  her  back  on  him.  The  young  man 
who  had  been  dubbed  "  drover  "  grew  fiery  red  and  then 
pale,  took  off  his  hat  stiffly  to  the  company  and  begged  to 
absent  himself,  with  his  service  to  the  ladies  —  he  looked 
at  Catherine  —  and  his  thanks.  "And,"  he  concluded, 
"  if  Colonel  Dunstable  or  any  of  his  subalterns  hereafter 
should  require  me,  I  have  the  honor  —  " 


126  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

He  took  a  folded  letter  from  his  pocket,  tore  off  the 
superscription,  and  offered  it,  bowing,  to  the  colonel,  who 
stared  contemptuously. 

"  I  want  neither  you  nor  your  whereabouts,  my  good 
fellow.  Think  yourself  lucky  to  escape  further  notice." 

"  Will  you  give  my  father  your  name,  sir,"  Catherine 
struck  in,  "  that  we  may  know  whom  we  are  obliged  to  for 
this  morning's  courtesy  ?  " 

The  young  man  gave  her  a  warm  look  instead.  The  let 
ter  he  tore  across,  thrust  it  into  his  vest  and  with  an 
other  bow  to  her  alone,  walked  down  street  toward  the 
Battery. 

"A  blasted  son  of  Liberty,  and  be to  him,"  the 

colonel  saluted  his  back. 

"  A  son  of  English  liberty,  colonel,  and  of  English  —  " 

"Hey-day!  What 's  this,  what 's  this ?  Hast  caught  the 
infection  a'ready,  my  little  gray  lady?  Gad!  I  thought 
thy  Quaker  friends  were  our  friends.  Come,  we  '11  make 
up  our  quarrel  over  a  dish  of  my  wife's  Bohea  —  none 
of  your  insolent  herb  mixtures!  Say  to-morrow  at  four, 
and  bring  along  t'  other  little  gray  pigeon.  Now  I  am  off 
across  the  ferry.  If  I  keep  the  governor  waiting  for  his 
dinner,  I  shall  say  't  was  a  pair  of  bonnets  kept  me,  and 
Quaker  ones  at  that,  ho,  ho !  " 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

BUT  Catherine  took  no  tea  with  the  colonel's  lady.  Her 
garments  of  the  world  supplying  the  means  of  departure, 
she  spent  the  same  day  packing,  and  on  Tuesday  sailed  up 
the  North  River,  still  under  the  wing  of  a  Quaker  shawl 
— this  time  appertaining  to  Ann  Havergal  on  her  way  home 
after  a  visit  at  her  son  Edwin's  house  in  the  city. 

Quaker  meeting  on  its  social  side  dealing  liberally  in 
personal  items,  it  was  quickly  known  what  "  up-country 
friends"  might  be  leaving  the  city  at  the  earliest  date  by  the 
Albany  sloops.  It  was,  in  fact,  while  waiting  for  this  infor 
mation  on  First  Day  morning  that  Catherine  and  her  friend 
Mercy  Titus  had  been  detained,  and  had  missed  Friend 
Titus  after  all.  However,  it  was  arranged ;  Friend  Titus, 
Catherine's  hostess  and  Mercy's  mother,  having  spoken 
with  Friend  Havergal  after  meeting.  She  would  surely  be 
aboard  the  packet-boat,  but  it  was  her  son  who  traveled 
with  her,  not  her  husband.  Jonathan  Havergal's  health 
had  failed.  He  no  more  took  journeys  far  from  home. 
Friend  Titus  feared  there  were  other  anxieties  of  a  business 
nature  contributing  to  his  low  state  of  mind  and  body.  An 
old  person  of  the  neighborhood  had  died,  the  settlement 
of  whose  estate  involved  adjoining  property  of  his  own. 
The  heirs,  from  England,  were  in  the  city  and  Francis  Hav 
ergal,  the  youngest  son,  but  said  to  be  the  most  acute  in 
business  matters,  had  come  down  with  his  mother  to  learn 
what  the  Englishmen  would  do;  if  possible,  to  settle  the 
matter  out  of  court. 


128  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

Catherine  was  deeply  interested.  She  had  stepped  at 
once  into  the  heart  of  the  old  life,  and  she  welcomed  every 
homely  detail  with  a  rush  of  amusement  and  joy. 

She  had  still  to  write  to  her  father,  explaining  her  un 
expected  presence  in  America.  As  it  was  to  be  the  longest 
letter  she  had  ever  written  him,  so  also  it  promised  to  be 
the  most  difficult. 

She  set  about  it  that  same  Sunday  afternoon.  She  was 
restless  with  a  sense  of  change  and  upheaval  in  the  very 
air.  That  incident  of  the  morning  showed  complications 
beneath  the  surface  of  Colonial  affairs,  but  faintly  fore 
shadowed  in  the  part  of  England  she  had  been  living  in. 
As  to  the  depths  of  misunderstanding  there,  on  the  subject 
of  America  and  the  Americans,  her  young  intelligence 
could  not  cope  with  it.  Even  the  rector,  who  rebaptized 
her  into  the  church  of  her  fathers,  that  kind,  well-bred 
and  Christian  gentleman,  thought  that  he  covered  the 
whole  ground  as  to  the  rights  and  liberties  of  the  Colonies 
when  he  quoted  Doctor  Johnson's  "race  of  convicted  fel 
ons,"  or  Lord  Hillsborough's  "The  Americans  shall  get 
only  what  they  may  ask  with  a  halter  round  their  necks." 

Who  and  what  were  these  Americans,  she  would  ask, 
thinking  of  her  guardian  and  Madam  Schuyler. 

She  had  begged  her  cousin  Adrian  in  his  letters  to 
write  her  of  these  things.  He  had  put  the  question  aside, 
saying,  England  now  must  do  for  her  all  that  England 
could.  Her  mind  must  not  be  divided.  She  would  have 
enough  to  do  to  keep  faith  with  her  father's  intentions  in 
sending  her  there  ;  that  his  views  and  her  father's  differed 
—  perhaps  in  the  future  might  differ  still  more.  There  was 
right  and  wrong  on  both  sides.  But  come  what  might,  she 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  129 

and  her  father  were  dearer  to  him  than  any  two  persons  or 
two  governments  on  earth  .  There  was  a  careful  tenderness, 
a  seriousness,  in  his  words  that  gave  to  them  strangely 
the  accent  of  farewell. 

So  the  matter  paused.  And  now  she  sets  foot  on  Ameri 
can  soil  to  find  a  loyal  city  divided  into  factions,  —  the 
Quakers  exerting  all  their  strength  to  preserve  silence  and 
neutrality ;  heartfelt  divisions  even  there ;  but  Catherine 
was  too  newly  come  among  them  to  perceive  this. 

She  had  marked,  in  that  young  countryman  who  spoiled 
the  subaltern's  beautiful  breeches,  his  own  plain  dress  yet 
far  from  humble  bearing ;  his  quickness  to  discern  the  occa 
sion  and  the  moment  for  interference ;  the  promptness  to 
oppose  his  person,  the  skill  to  repel  attack,  the  masterly 
good-humor  when  the  day  was  his ;  the  dignity  under  insult. 

One  other  thing  she  had  recognized  —  the  man  himself. 
That  was  Bassy  Dunbar  —  six  feet  high  but  the  same  boy. 
Well  she  remembered  his  smile  when  he  would  hold  the 
mob  of  little  "  Dutchies  "  at  bay.  She  knew  him  in  the 
second  look.  He  knew  her  in  the  first.  She  had  seen  her 
face  break  upon  him,  —  and  then,  on  the  instant,  his  reso 
lution  taken,  to  make  no  sign  !  not  to  avail  himself  of  her 
recognition  at  a  moment  when  it  might  be  useful.  Was 
that  his  only  reason  ?  Could  that  account  for  his  last  au 
dacious  action  ?  Why  had  he  torn  up  his  name  when  she 
asked  for  it  —  abolished  himself  before  her  eyes  ? 

"  I  remember  you.  At  need  I  would  serve  you.  Fare 
well!" 

So  said  his  bow  at  parting. 

If  little  Catherine  at  seventeen  had  never  been  looked 
at  by  a  lover,  very  likely  one  other  thing  his  eyes  said 


130  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

might  have  escaped  her  ;  but  she  had  been.  Catherine  had 
refused  her  first  offer  of  marriage. 

It  was  of  this  she  had  to  write  her  father.  Her  Quaker 
friends,  the  Tituses,  were  a  family  who  would  do  anything 
for  you  except  leave  you  alone,  and  there  were  many  in 
terruptions  ;  but,  spasmodic  and  at  times  incoherent  as  it 
is,  we  shall  give  this  communication  in  her  own  words. 

"  Dearest  Papa,  I  am  wondering !  Could  you  have 
known,  did  you  any  way  suspect  what  would  happen  to  me 
directly  I  reached  Aunt  Sophia's  ?  Did  you  realize  it  was  a 
general  visit  to  Littledene,  for  it  was  there  she  received  me. 
I  was  staying  with  Cousin  Gentrey,  actually  her  guest  in 
stead  of  Aunt  Sophia's;  or  I  should  say  Stephen's  guest, 
as  he  is  master  of  everybody  and  everything  at  Littledene. 
If  I  had  known  it,  papa,  if  I  had  only  known  it !  It  gave 
some  color  to  Stephen's  incredulity  when  I  said  he  took 
me  by  surprise.  He  declared  he  was  showing  me,  all  the 
time,  how  he  felt  while  we  three  were  together  at  Nice 
and  in  Italy.  Did  you  see  it,  papa  ?  I  of  course  never 
dreamed  it. 

"  But  « coquetry ' !  To  accuse  me  of  seeing  and  knowing 
and  coming  down  here  prepared ! 

"  Oh,  he  was  entirely  mad !  The  instant  he  found  he 
was  not  to  get  what  he  wanted,  he  threw  off  the  outside 
he  has  acquired.  He  was  himself.  /  knew  him,  papa,  when 
he  was  a  boy ! 

"  I  don't  know  against  what,  or  whom  I  am  arguing ! 
I  cannot  believe  you  would  wish  me  to  marry  Cousin  Ste 
phen.  Not  because  of  his  physical  disadvantage  ;  I  assure 
you,  papa,  his  misfortune  was,  and  always  has  been,  his 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  131 

only  hold  on  me.  How  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  He  suffered 
dreadfully  as  a  boy.  When  he  tormented  me  about  Amer 
ica,  —  I  was  little  and  sensitive  and  just  come  from  all 
I  loved  there,  and  his  jibes  hurt !  (He  says  he  has  been 
always  jealous  of  America  because  he  knew  I  loved  it  and 
was  making  silent  comparisons.)  When  he  bullied  me  out 
of  my  pocket-money,  that  he  might  spend  it  for  us,  and 
spent  it  on  himself ;  when  he  was  abominable  to  me  in 
every  way  a  big  boy  can  be  to  a  little  hot-tempered  girl, 
with  not  a  soul  to  back  her  up  —  still  I  could  forgive  him, 
seeing  how  he  suffered  and  could  not  do  even  what  we 
could,  we  little  girls,  to  say  nothing  of  lads  of  his  own  age ! 
He  was  far  worse  then  in  health  and  temper  than  you  see 
him  now.  His  face  was  impish.  Now,  I  consider  him  almost 
handsome.  He  is  frightfully  clever,  he  dresses  like  a  fairy 
prince  ;  but  oppose  him,  deny  him  anything  he  wants,  and 
he  is  Stephen.  It  was  my  poor  little  pennies  he  wanted 
then  to  spend ;  now  it  is  me. 

"  I  should  never  have  a  word  to  say  for  my  own  life  or 
anything  that  was  mine.  I  don't  speak  of  money,  though 
Aunt  Sophia  argues  in  cold  blood  that  Stephen  needs  all 
he  has  and  all  that  I  have,  too !  that  the  Holte  property 
and  the  Gen  trey  belong  together.  It  stands  in  the  way  of 
her  leaving  me  what  she  admits  belongs  to  me  —  it  tears 
her  in  two,  she  says,  to  think  how  little  /  shall  need  money 
in  America,  living  with  such  '  barbarians  ' !  and  how  much 
'  poor  Stephen '  will  need  it  in  England,  having  nothing 
besides ! 

"Aunt  Gen  trey  is  never  ashamed  of  anything  she 
thinks.  She  speaks  her  mind.  If  Stephen  could  hope  to 
marry  any  of  the  good  matches  over  there,  she  would  not 


132  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

consider  me  near  '  good '  enough  nor  rich  enough  for  the 
heir  of  Littledene.  But,  poor  Stephen  !  His  little  '  Ameri 
can  cousin'  is  the  most  he  can  expect,  and  he  is  foolish 
enough  to  think  he  loves  her ! 

"  I  must  suppose  it  is  his  kind  of  love.  But  cross  it  in 
the  least,  and  it  comes  very  close  to  ferocity.  If  I  married 
him  I  should  be  beneath  him,  I  should  be  beneath  myself, 
and  Stephen  has  no  mercy  on  anything  beneath  him.  It 
may  be,  as  aunt  says,  4  thwarted  will-power,'  the  madness 
of  defeat,  every  way  he  turns.  Whatever  't  is,  it  is  some 
thing  I  dare  not  face  —  as  his  wife. 

"  The  great  mistake  was,  I  tried  to  be  tender  with  him 
at  first.  One  can't  be  without  some  feeling  for  an  old  com 
rade,  however  at  sword's  points  we  were ;  and  it  was  my 
turn  now. 

"  We  were  on  the  east  terrace  above  the  lower  garden, 
just  at  moonrise.  Ah !  the  long  English  twilights  !  Would 
that  the  two  dear  lands  might  be  rolled  into  one,  with 
one's  pick  of  the  people !  The  roses  crowded  over  the 
broken  parapet  —  long  sprays,  loaded  with  blossoms,  trail 
ing  on  the  old  stone  floor.  How  many  seasons,  I  wonder, 
have  they  stormed  that  wall  ?  'T  is  as  if  they  had  made  the 
breaches  there,  and  exulted  to  crowd  in. 

"  How  I  love  the  place  —  the  place !  But,  oh,  papa,  how 
unhappy  a  woman  might  be  there ! 

"  You  must  have  known  that  spot,  dear  papa.  You  may 
have  sat  there  with  my  mother  in  that  soft  light,  and 
watched  the  moon  come  up  over  the  garden.  I  know  you 
blame  yourself  for  being  in  such  haste  to  take  her  away. 
But  do  not,  do  not !  Had  you  left  her  there,  they  would 
have  made  her — stepmother  to  Stephen  ! 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  133 

"  He  pointed  —  poor  Stephen  —  to  his  crippled  leg.  He 
struck  his  cane  upon  the  thick-soled  shoe.  '  It  is  this/  he 
said,  4  this  murderous  clog  I  carry  to  my  grave.  You  do 
not  care  to  keep  step  with  that  ? ' 

"  I  took  his  hand ;  I  could  have  kissed  it  for  that  look 
in  his  face.  Never  have  I  heard  him  before  so  much  as 
allude  to  that  shoe !  If  any  ons  else  had  dared  to  —  I 
think  he  could  have  killed  them.  I  covered  up  his  wound 
as  quick  as  I  could.  I  went  too  far,  of  course  !  There  was, 
I  suppose,  something  dangerous  in  my  pity,  something  he 
mistook. 

"  If  that  were  no  bar  between  us,  if  that  could  be  over 
come,  what,  then,  was  there?  He  defied  me  to  prove 
that,  if  I  could  forget  that,  I  could  not  learn  to  love  him. 
At  seventeen  to  presume  to  answer  for  a  whole  life  —  for 
two  lives!  He  could  have  understood  my  casting  him 
aside  for  a  physical  defect  —  that  he  would  have  accepted 
as  final. 

"  How  could  I  tell  him  he  was  deformed  within  ?  He 
has  a  crippled  heart.  His  4  murderous  clog '  is  Himself. 
He  has  never  tried  to  make  any  one  happy  —  me  least  of 
all.  The  power  he  never  used  he  has  lost.  I  could  not  say 
to  him  this  ;  there  was  nothing  I  could  say  that  he  would 
accept  as  an  answer.  So  all  that  was  left  was  to  get 
away. 

"  At  first  there  was  a  terrible  storm  of  talk  in  the  fam 
ily  when  't  was  found  what  I  had  done.  Stephen  clamored 
for  me  shamelessly.  I  suppose  he  could  not  believe  but 
he  should  win.  Aunt  Sophia  was  cuttingly,  grindingly 
on  his  side,  his  mother  not  openly  against  him  ;  but  I 
soon  saw  that  in  her  and  the  girls  I  had  secret  allies.  They 


134  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

wished  me  away.  It  is  a  shameful  sort  of  knowledge  to 
have,  but  it  is  true :  they  are  in  no  hurry  for  Stephen  to 
marry.  He  would  lose  no  time  to  turn  them  out.  Cousin 
Gentrey  would  not  care  to  live  with  Aunt  Sophia  at  the 
Heronry,  nor  wish  to  lose  the  rent  aunt  pays,  that  scarce 
would  provide  as  good  a  house  elsewhere.  She  and  the 
girls  have  very  little  of  their  own.  But  it  does  not  become 
me  to  gossip  about  Cousin  Gentrey.  Next  to  your  letter, 
—  that  precious  letter,  your  afterthought  before  you 
sailed,  —  't  was  Cousin  Amelia  who  helped  me  to  get  here. 

"  That  letter  made  me  wonder  if  you  had  not  half  sus- 
picioned  the  ordeal  before  me  ?  I  can  imagine  you  thinking 
it  out  from  a  father's  view,  not  quite  as  you  did  for  your 
self  and  mamma.  But  you  do  not  know  Stephen  ;  and 
you  love  England,  and  you  are  an  Englishman  about 
family  estates.  They  wanted  my  mother  to  be  mistress  of 
Littledene.  You  were  a  boy,  they  say,  when  you  made  her 
mistress  of  your  own  dear  heart  instead.  Oh,  wise  papa ! 
But  when  it  came  to  your  child,  you  would  have  looked 
at  all  that  beauty  and  wealth  of  family  association,  and 
thought  of  the  wilderness  where  you  have  chosen  your 
home.  You  would  not  stand  in  the  way  of  my  fortune  if 
't  was  meant  for  me  to  bring  back  the  noble  old  house 
into  the  right  line. 

"  And  then,  on  the  other  hand,  you  thought  of  them  all 
prepared  to  gobble  me  up  for  Stephen's  sake  ;  you  did  not 
wish  me  to  be  trapped.  So  you  gave  me  the  clew  which  at  a 
pinch  should  lead  me  out  of  the  labyrinth  —  in  case  I  did 
not  care  to  stay  there,  with  Stephen. 

"  Did  you  think  I  had  no  pangs  when  you  left  me  ?  Now 
for  a  secret  of  my  own. 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  135 

"  I  wanted  with  all  my  heart  to  come  with  you.  My 
choice,  had  I  been  honest,  was  to  have  stayed  with  Cousin 
Adrian  this  summer  while  you  builded  your  Bear's  house 
in  the  woods.  Think,  sir,  what  the  voyage  would  have  been, 
and  the  fine  times  together  in  New  York  ;  all  the  packs  of 
pretty  clothes  you  bought  me  that  I  should  have  worn  at 
your  side,  you  beautiful  old  dandy !  And  the  sail  up  the 
Hudson  —  my  soul ! 

"  But  more  than  all  I  did  so  wish  to  please  you  exactly, 
to  prove  I  had  learned  '  the  grace  of  Compliance.'  You 
may  remember,  sir,  you  mentioned  there  was  such  a  virtue. 
You  placed  your  finger  on  a  glaring  fault  in  your  child  — 
yes,  glaring,  though  you  did  not  say  so.  I  determined  there 
should  be  no  argument  between  us;  and  you  laid  an  ac 
cent  on  my  staying.  You  may  not  know  it,  but  you  did. 
We  were  both  of  us  something  too  gay  and  glad  to  be  run 
ning  away  together.  You  put  over  your  own  qualms  on  me. 
You  were  almost  pathetic  about  Aunt  Sophia's  invitation. 
4  It  may  be,'  says  you,  4  the  last  thing  the  poor  lady  will 
ever  ask  of  you.' 

"  So  I  was  a  *  good  girl '  and  a  dishonest  one.  But  you 
saved  me  with  that  letter. 

"  I  had  an  inspiration  —  't  was  nothing  less  —  that  I 
must  not  show  it.  It  came  to  me  late  but  in  time.  By  what 
they  did  else,  I  believe  they  would  have  nullified  it  in  some 
way.  They  put  the  case  to  my  other  trustee  in  London,  and 
in  such  a  way  that  despite  my  letter  to  him,  assuring  him 
you  had  given  me  the  right  to  choose  whether  to  go  or  stay, 
he  sided  with  Aunt  Gentrey. 

"  I  then  wrote  to  Joanna  in  Scotland.  She  never  answered. 
Is  it  likely  she  would  not  if  the  letter  was  ever  allowed  to 


136  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

reach  her  ?  I  asked  her  to  come  to  me  at  once,  and  bring 
what  money  she  had ;  that  I  needed  her  and  ten  pounds  to 
get  to  London,  etc.  Silence  of  the  dead !  And  that  taught 
me  to  what  lengths  they  would  go.  A  '  child  of  seventeen  ' 
could  not  know  her  own  mind.  They  took  for  granted 
your  consent :  I  was  to  be  kept  in  England  till  I  came  of 
age.  I  should  have  broke  down,  of  course.  They  would 
have  married  me  to  Stephen. 

"  You  charged  me  never  to  travel  alone.  That  was  the 
great  difficulty,  after  I  gave  up  Joanna. 

"  One  day  company  called  from  Dalton  Priory,  and  with 
them  came  an  army  lady,  wife  of  Major  Parks,  soon  to  join 
her  husband  in  America.  I  saw  but  little  of  this  person, 
not  fancying  her  appearance  ;  but  Cousin  Gentrey  talked 
with  her,  and  at  bedtime  in  my  room  she  talked  with  me. 
To  her  I  admitted  that  you  had  placed  means  at  my  com 
mand,  once  I  could  get  up  to  London.  She  advanced  me 
five  pounds  (and  took  mama's  little  diamond  brooch  and 
my  marquisette  buckles  as  security).  So,  with  my  boxes 
packed  in  secret  by  her  maid,  leaving  a  letter  for  my  poor 
old  Aunt  Sophia  (whom  I  honor  and  loathe),  I  was  driven 
over,  through  Cousin  Gen  trey's  connivance,  to  Dalton 
Priory,  in  time  to  go  to  London  with  Mistress  Parks.  An 
adventure  I  should  have  dearly  liked  —  with  a  different 
escort. 

"  At  Portsmouth,  a  number  of  army  officers  came  to 
call  upon  us.  The  ship  was  delayed.  Madam  Parks  amused 
herself  meantime  prodigiously.  I  kept  my  room  as  far  as 
possible.  They  were  generally  at  cards  downstairs ;  much 
wine  was  drunk  —  her  maid  putting  her  to  bed  in  the 
small  hours.  When  our  ship  was  to  sail,  't  was  discovered 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  137 

madam  had  emptied  her  purse  at  play.  The  landlord, 
taking  alarm  from  tradespeople  she  owed  in  town,  seized 
her  mails,  and  mine  with  them,  our  accounts  being  to 
gether.  At  this  she  said  she  must  go  back  to  London  for 
more  money,  which  would  lose  us  our  ship,  unless  I  could 
lend  her  fifty  pounds  —  which  I  thought  best  not  to  do. 
As  I  tell  this  it  sounds  like  a  long  as  well  as  sickening 
chapter.  It  lasted  but  little  over  a  week. 

44  On  the  Sunday  morning  following,  Mistress  Parks 
being  still  in  her  bed,  I  stood  at  the  window  and  saw  two 
sweet  Quaker  ladies  go  by  —  neat  as  birds  and  stepped 
as  swift,  or  I  should  have  run  out  and  followed,  for  they 
fair  took  my  heart  along  with  them.  Straight  little  backs, 
plain  folds  like  a  nun,  and  soft,  pale  faces  such  as  one 
yearns  for  —  after  too  much  rouge  and  scarlet.  I  rang  for 
a  servant  and  asked  if  there  was  a  Quaker  meeting-house 
in  the  town.  Told  there  was,  I  made  up  my  little  packet, 
feed  a  boy  to  guide  me,  and  he  left  me  opposite  a  plain 
brick  house  in  a  quiet  old  square,  with  a  silence  all  about 
it.  I  blundered  into  the  wrong  door  and  found  myself  in 
the  men's  side  of  the  meeting.  Oh,  the  dear  old  faces,  with 
their  hats  on,  confronting  me  in  the  saints'  gallery !  That 
cannot  be  what  they  call  it,  but  saints  they  looked. 

"  One  was  preaching  in  a  queer,  high  warble.  His  eyes 
were  closed.  An  old  man  rose  up  from  a  seat  near  the 
door,  smiled  at  me  gravely,  led  me  out  into  the  lobby,  and 
pointed  to  another  door.  This  time  I  faced  a  row  of  saints 
in  bonnets. 

"  If  any  were  curious  they  did  not  show  it.  The  old  man 
across  the  low  partition  warbled  on.  I  did  not  know  what 
they  would  say  to  me  nor  what  they  could  do  —  but  felt  I 


138  THE  EOYAL  AMERICANS 

should  come  to  no  more  harm,  nor  '  strike  my  foot  against 
a  stone,'  as  I  had  in  my  first  forthputting. 

"  You  will  please  forget  the  name  of  that  major's  wife, 
papa.  I  made  use  of  her. 

"  All  that  followed  worked  out  by  degrees  perfectly  nat 
ural.  I  had  gone  to  see  Sir  William  Baker  in  London, 
who  is  dead  —  did  you  know  that  ?  It  is  his  son  now  that 
has  the  management,  but  he  honored  your  signature.  He 
was  to  have  sent  my  money  to  the  ship  by  some  trusty 
person  who  could  see  me  off.  That  also  convinced  him  I 
was  going  straight  to  you.  Still  better  was  he  pleased  when 
he  found  me  at  the  house  of  a  grand,  noble-looking  woman- 
preacher,  whose  name  he  knew  well,  —  for  he  came  himself ! 
We  were  starting  from  Bristol  this  time  ;  he  was  his  own 
messenger.  Don't  forget  that  of  him,  papa.  He  was  ex 
traordinary  kind  and  saluted  me  like  an  elder  brother  when 
we  parted. 

"  As  for  my  Quaker  friends,  your  letter  was  my  creden 
tials.  They  read  it  once  and  smiled.  My  father's  arms 
were  about  me  in  every  word.  His  trust  in  me  was  my 
warranty.  When  you  wrote  it,  you  had  pangs,  too,  my 
father.  I  know  you  had.  You  asked  yourself,  '  How  can  I 
bear  to  lose  her  ?  Will  she  be  happy  if  she  leave  me  ? '  I 
shall  never  leave  you  till  you  leave  me  —  and  not  then! 
Let  me  once  get  to  you  again  ;  after  that  no  more  part 
ings  ! 

"  Nothing  could  be  simpler  or  easier  than  what  has  hap 
pened  since,  yet  it  has  been  a  new,  rich  experience ;  strange, 
utterly  aside  from  one's  real  self,  yet  somehow  steadying. 
The  very  dress  I  was  obliged  to  wear  exerts  an  influence 
I  cannot  describe.  Only  once  I  broke  out  of  it,  and  aston- 


CATHEEINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY    139 

ished  everybody,  myself  most  of  all !  Of  that  I  shall  tell 
you  hereafter. 

"  I  gave  away  my  last  and  only  suit  of  '  worldly '  gar 
ments  to  the  cabin-maid  on  board  the  packet-ship.  It  was 
not  in  keeping  with  the  4  Friends '  I  traveled  with ;  it 
made  talk  and  speculation.  So  I  put  on  the  gray  lendings 
and  was  half  sorry  to  lay  them  off.  If  your  child  should 
ever  be  at  outs  with  the  world,  she  begs  to  become  a 
Quaker  nun  in  a  scoop  bonnet.  No  one  restrains  them  of 
their  liberty,  but  their  souls  are  disciplined.  'T  is  their 
favorite  word,  and  it  serves. 

"  I  shall  go  straight  to  Cousin  Adrian's  and  remain 
there  nested  in  peace  till  you  send  for  me,  or,  better  still, 
come  to  fetch  me.  But  I  shall  not  be  impatient. 

"  Your  ever  loving  and  hereafter  dutiful  daughter, 

"  CATHERINE." 


CHAPTEE  XIX 

IN  spite  of  ancient  history,  —  the  tale  of  the  human 
family  as  fathers  and  mothers  must  know  it,  — how  easily, 
when  their  turn  comes,  do  they  believe  those  sweet  vows 
that  sweet  young  daughters  make  ! 

When  Colonel  Yelverton  read  this  letter,  his  heart  was 
proud  and  his  gallant  eyes  grew  dim.  So  she  had  made 
her  choice :  her  daddy  against  the  kingdoms,  as  young  men 
offer  them  to  the  girls  they  would  capture  for  themselves. 
He  might  count  on  five,  perhaps  six  years  with  her  all 
to  himself,  before  they  need  be  pestered  with  a  husband. 
And  when  she  came  to  that  '  Bear's  house '  he  trusted  to 
surprise  her!  He  hugged  his  soul  in  pride  that  he  had 
played  the  game  in  sportsman  fashion,  given  her  all  the 
chances  dealt  her  by  right  of  blood  and  circumstance. 
The  little  hussy !  clever  as  she  was,  she  had  not  fathomed 
his  sordid  duplicity  in  urging  her  to  be  as  on-coming  as 
possible  to  *  poor  Aunt  Sophia.'  Poor  Aunt  Sophia !  with 
four  thousand  pounds  of  her  half-sister's  money,  Cather 
ine's  mother's  money,  at  the  disposal  of  her  pen !  How 
well  for  him  that  he  could  afford  this  bravado !  He  pitied 
them  at  Littledene,  with  their  stale  money  and  wornout 
lands  that  could  not  buy  his  little  Catherine.  He  had  opened 
wide  doors  to  his  homing  pigeon,  had  not  laid  a  feather's 
weight  upon  her  flight,  and  straight  and  sure,  back  she 
finds  her  own  way  to  his  hungering  heart.  So  that  was 
the  end  of  the  world  and  the  flesh  for  them ! 

He  stroked  his  shapely  knees,  encased  in  tight  white 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  141 

buckskin  riding-breeches,  in  front  of  a  roaring  beech-wood 
fire.  Though  it  was  June,  evenings  in  his  northern  wilder 
ness  were  still  cool.  In  the  far  end  of  the  log  shanty  he 
occupied  while  his  red  brick  mansion  was  building,  numer 
ous  pieces  of  furniture  were  stacked  uncrated.  He  could 
see  through  its  wrappings  the  carved  posts  of  a  little  tent- 
bed  that  was  to  stand  in  the  alcove  of  a  southwest  bedroom. 
Among  the  bales  of  blankets  and  rugs  and  linen  were  the 
delicate  flowered  chintzes  for  its  curtains.  He  was  a  man 
who  needed  a  woman  in  his  life,  and  he  had  been  tanta 
lized  in  his  thirst  for  home  joys.  The  cup  had  been  snatched 
from  his  lips,  the  torch  put  out. 

His  day  in  the  wilderness  had  been  long,  his  labors 
often  fruitless,  his  chief  social  excitements  those  quarrels 
of  his  neighbors  with  which  more  and  more  he  was  becom 
ing  identified. 

The  community  growing  up  around  him,  — neighbors  as 
they  called  themselves,  —  five,  ten,  perhaps  twenty  miles 
apart,  with  a  blacksmith's  forge  on  each  farm  and  a  meet 
ing-house  at  the  cross-roads,  was  pretty  definitely  divided 
into  Church  and  Meeting,  Tory  and  Whig, — New  York 
supplying  the  Church  and  Tory  element  chiefly,  in  the 
residents  she  encouraged  to  settle  on  her  patents  as  an 
offset  to  the  New  England  opposition  rapidly  crowding  in. 

Many  of  the  former  were  retired  army  officers  like  the 
colonel,  seeking  a  reward  for  their  battles  in  the  Colonies' 
cause,  in  a  slice  of  colonial  land. 

The  colonel  had  grown  narrow,  a  trifle  rougher  in  his 
speech,  and  he  ate  too  much  and  probably  drank  too  much ; 
but  that  he  was  not  worse,  and  a  gambler  and  a  sot,  like 
so  many  of  his  old  mislaid  bachelor  and  widower  friends, 


142  THE   KOYAL   AMEKICANS 

was  due  to  the  sweetness  and  sanity  of  his  nature.  Perhaps 
it  was  due  also  to  the  young  daughter  he  must  keep  straight 
for. 

On  the  morning  after  her  letter  came,  he  rose  up  feel, 
ing  like  a  boy  again.  He  decided  on  a  long  ride  to  tuj 
outer  edge  of  his  plantation  (not  yet  all  planted  by  sev 
eral  thousand  acres),  to  see  about  a  company  of  "queer 
sticks  "  said  to  have  camped  on  a  piece  of  his  land,  — a  sort 
of  religious  revivalists,  different  varieties  of  whom  were 
springing  up  all  over  the  country  districts  in  the  wake  of 
W  hitefield's  preaching.  He  decided  to  move  on  them  about 
sundown,  when  the  men  would  be  home  to  supper,  that  he 
might  see  what  sort  they  were,  for  he  suspected  other  mat 
ters  than  religion  might  have  induced  their  wanderings  in 
the  wilderness.  His  great  beaver  dam  and  village  lay  over 
in  that  direction.  To  preserve  his  own  beavers  appealed 
to  every  Englishman  as  good  sport  as  well  as  good  money. 

He  had  his  wood-runner  with  him,  carrying  food  for  two 
and  an  axe  for  brush-cutting.  He  made  the  fellow  ride 
behind,  keeping  some  distance  between  them  to  rid  him 
self  of  the  sense  of  company  that  was  not  companionship. 
How  much  of  that  had  he  not  borne  since  coming  to 
America !  He  was  used  to  it  now,  but  how  different  these 
rides  would  be  when  he  had  his  child ! 

They  had  loitered  the  day  out  in  the  woods,  going  round 
by  the  beaver  dam,  where  trappers  had  been  at  work, — 
not  these  persons  perhaps,  but  the  mischief  was  begun. 

Long  slits  and  low  spots  of  gold  between  the  crowded 
tree-boles  showed  the  sun's  retreat.  A  vesper  silence  set 
tled  on  the  paths.  The  close  green  roof  of  branches  over 
head  turned  black. 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  143 

On  the  silence  as  they  topped  a  rise  broke  a  long  wail 
ing  chorus  of  men's  and  women's  voices.  The  wind,  which 
blew  toward  them,  softly  died,  and  the  singing  died  also. 
They  rode  on,  and  met  it  again  as  the  trail  turned  aside 
from  the  hill's  descent,  this  time  in  a  louder,  nearer  burst. 
Smoke  of  a  camp-fire  showed  through  the  trees. 

"  Then  entered  in  these  wise  men  three, 
With  rev-e-rence  fell  on  their  knee, 
And  offered  up  in  his  pres-ence, 
The  gifts  of  gold  and  frank-in-cense! 

Chorus  :  —  O  well,  O  well,  O  well,  O  well ! 
Born  is  the  King  of  Isra-el! " 

"  What  manner  of  hymn  is  that,  Obadiah  ?  "  The  colo 
nel's  man  rode  up  beside  him  :  "  Presbyterian,  would  you 
call  it?" 

"  Can't  say,  sir.  I  have  little  to  do  with  New  York 
Presbyterians." 

"  Is  it  Low  Dutch  ?  " 

"  You  have  me  there,  sir,  too.  Sounds  to  me  plaguey 
like  we  had  a  flock  o'  Separatists  lit  down  amongst  us. 
Those  folks  don't  belong  to  any  meeting.  Think  they  can 
git  salvation  waitin'  at  the  cross-roads.  As  for  singin'  — 
I  don't  know  what  they  would  n't  sing!  " 

"Very  likely,"  said  the  colonel.  "Well,  Obadiah, 
look  up  our  camping-spot,  and  beat  on  the  frying-pan 
when  the  trout  are  ready.  I  shall  go  forward  and  speak 
with  these  Separatists,  and  move  there  be  a  little  further 
separation  between  us." 

The  colonel  dismounted  and  strode  through  the  nar 
row  strip  of  woods  that  curtained  the  encampment.  He 


144  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

noted  disgustedly  that  trees  had  been  felled,  —  more  trees 
and  more,  all  up  the  slope,  girdled  as  for  future  opera 
tions  on  a  larger  scale. 

Upon  the  first  of  these  intruders  he  came  in  a  tower 
ing  bad  humor :  a  man  seated,  bent  over,  by  the  remains 
of  his  fire,  in  a  deep  sleep  or  stupor. 

"  Wake  up,  my  man !  Where  is  the  leader  of  your 
company  in  here?  I  desire  to  speak  with  him." 

The  sleeper,  who  had  the  eye  of  a  pig  in  a  large,  flat, 
discolored  countenance,  pointed  loosely  in  the  colonel's 
direction  while  his  body  sagged  earthwards. 

"  '  Simon  Bar-jona,  lovest  thou  me  ? '  ' 

Getting  no  more  out  of  him  than  a  repetition  of  the 
question,  Colonel  Yelverton  replied,  "  My  name  is  not 
Bar-jona,  friend,  nor  do  I  love  thee,  if  truth  be  told. 
My  errand  is  not  of  that  nature.  Sit  up,  if  you  can,  and 
say  where  is  your  master." 

"  '  Simon  Bar-jona,'  "  the  speaker  reiterated,  4  feed  my 
lambs ! '" 

Colonel  Yelverton  regarded  him  smiling.  Do  these 
revivalists  quote  Scripture  in  their  cups,  he  wondered,  or 
was  the  fellow  drunk  with  religious  emotion,  or  was  he 
merely  shamming  for  reasons  of  his  own  ? 

"  4  Simon  Bar-jona,'  "  he  muttered,  as  his  body  sank  to 
earth  and  rolled  over,  one  finger  still  waving  toward  the 
colonel,  "  4  feed-my-sheep.'  " 

Voices  were  still  rising  and  sinking  in  cadence  beyond 
the  trees  —  phrases  from  the  Bible  alternating  blasphe 
mously,  it  seemed  to  the  listener,  with  such  adjurations  as 
"Sister,  hold  my  hand!"  or  "Brother,"  likewise.  The 
colonel  walked  on,  pausing  at  a  low  bark  hut  the  door  of 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  145 

which  hung  ajar  on  leather  hinges,  to  examine  the  interior. 
Turning  by  accident,  behold  the  Scripture-quoter  risen  on 
elbow,  the  pig-eye  watching  with  a  look  neither  drunk  nor 
pious. 

From  the  number  of  horses  hitched  to  trees,  the  colo 
nel  concluded  that  a  part  of  the  assemblage  before  him 
had  gathered  from  neighboring  farms.  He  recognized  some 
of  his  own  tenants,  the  younger  ones  who  would  be  apt  to 
follow  up  any  new  spectacle  ;  and  the  one  before  him  a 
lover  of  the  picture-drama  would  have  ridden  far  to  see. 

The  camp-fire,  cut  off  from  him  by  a  semicircle  of  char 
acteristic  backs  and  heads,  illumined  a  central  figure 
against  the  night  greens  that  drank  the  light :  —  a  tall 
young  woman,  dressed  as  plainly  as  might  be  in  a  dark 
homespun  skirt  and  short  gown ;  a  decent  apron,  and  a 
cap  hiding  all  but  the  roots  of  her  soft,  elastic  hair  grow 
ing  close  about  her  forehead,  completed  a  dress  that  would 
have  been  mean  for  a  servant.  The  effect  of  this  plainness 
was  to  throw  out  rather  than  diminish  the  wearer's  un 
common  gifts  of  person.  A  listlessness  of  manner  went 
strangely  with  this  beauty,  as  though  another  than  the  pos 
sessor  of  it  inhabited  its  form. 

The  girl  stood  a  moment,  her  arms  hanging  at  her  sides, 
looking  straight  before  her,  seeing  no  one;  not  the  colo 
nel  in  his  conspicuous  hunting  dress,  who  kept  himself  in 
shadow. 

"  My  friends,"  she  began,  in  a  soft,  even  voice,  "  some 
of  you  who  are  here  to-night  are  strangers,  asking  why  we 
are  come  amongst  you  and  what  message  we  bring.  For 
myself  I  speak  only.  They  call  me  young,  but  I  have  lived 
long  enough  to  suffer  some  things  ;  to  want  what  all  hearts 


146  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

ask  for ;  to  be  disappointed  of  every  hope  and  every  want 
but  such  as  we  seek  there  !  " 

She  looked  up,  she  did  not  move  a  finger ;  silently  her 
eyes  an  instant  sought  the  stars. 

"  My  poor  Charlotte  !  At  last !  "  the  colonel  groaned ; 
a  shudder  went  over  him  for  the  place  he  had  found  her 
in,  for  the  girl's  desolate  calmness,  and  for  the  people  he 
had  found  her  with.  He  listened,  drawing  closer  in  the 
shade. 

"  Some  of  you  here,  who  know  me,  know  that  I  had  a 
Best  Friend  who  brought  me  out  of  captivity.  Much  joy 
there  was  before  me  with  that  great  friend  and  one  I  loved 
better  still,  his  little  daughter.  I  lost  them  both.  I  threw 
them  away !  Because  I  wanted  more  than  a  share  —  I 
wanted  all.  Evil  birds  sang  in  my  ears  and  I  heard.  I  ran 
away  following  those  evil  voices. 

"  They  said,  '  Go  back  to  those  poor  heathen  who  set 
you  so  high  in  their  hearts.  Among  the  proud  white  peo 
ple  you  are  nothing.'  That  was  a  false  and  selfish  word  fit 
for  cowards.  But  I  went.  The  tribe  I  once  lived  with  had 
gone  far  away,  beyond  the  big  ocean-river  of  the  North.  I 
followed  —  many  moons  of  journeys,  as  they  say.  No  one 
laid  a  hand  on  me  to  hurt  me.  I  have  a  mark  here,"  she 
touched  her  breast,  "  that  made  me,  when  their  women  saw- 
it,  as  one  of  their  own  blood.  I  hated  the  mark.  No  white 
woman  has  it,  but  I  used  it.  Always,  with  them  that 
helped  me,  I  was  thinking  only  of  myself.  I  had  no  love 
for  them.  Always,  having  seen  white  people,  I  despised  my 
old  friends.  Not  before.  And  a  strange  thing  it  was  that 
in  every  village  where  I  came  and  stayed  and  took  what 
they  gave,  some  trouble  came  with  me  to  that  village. 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  147 

"  In  one  it  was  the  daughter  of  the  chief,  a  little  girl 
who  loved  me,  that  died  of  a  sickness  no  one  had  seen  be 
fore.  In  another  the  food  gave  out  in  winter.  In  a  third 
village  the  river  washed  away  the  crops  and  covered  the 
fields  with  sand.  So  it  began  to  run  before  me  that  I  was 
a  daughter  of  evil.  Where  I  went  and  ate  and  slept,  trou 
ble  came  with  me.  The  last  time  was  the  worst.  It  was  the 
smallpox,  and  they  drove  me  away  with  stones. 

"  I  turned  back  then.  At  the  first  poor  white  man's 
house,  I  went  in  and  begged  them  to  keep  me.  I  said, 4  The 
best  friends,  the  best  home,  I  threw  away  because  I  could  not 
have  all.  Now  let  me  take  the  portion  of  the  undeserving.' 

"  That  portion,  friends,  if  I  say  it  was  very  poor,  that  the 
work  was  very  long  and  hard  for  my  strength,  I  do  not 
say  it  to  complain.  God  is  just!  I  trod  on  his  best  gifts. 
I  threw  them  away  in  my  wicked  pride  and  jealousy.  That 
was  why  there  were  bad  links  in  the  chain  of  friendship 
between  me  and  those  I  loved  —  the  white  people.  Also 
the  Indians  who  once  loved  me.  The  bad  links  were  in  my 
own  heart,  and  the  chain  always  broke. 

"  Then  came  a  great  sickness,  and  the  long  winter 
of  my  sighing.  It  seemed  I  should  never  be  able  to  rise 
again.  By-and-by  a  woman  was  sent  to  me.  I  do  not  know 
where  from,  or  how  she  came,  for  I  was  in  a  long  dream 
of  fever.  She  laid  her  hands  on  me  and  stroked  my  flesh 
and  felt  my  bones  and  said,  4  Sister,  thou  art  not  sick  in 
body  but  in  spirit.  There  is  one  you  ask  always  to  see. 
Is  that  true?' 

"  'More  than  one,'  I  said, l  there  are  two.'  She  came  to 
that  presently.  She  told  me  I  had  a  great  friend  whom  I 
had  lost  and  was  wearying  to  see. 


148  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"I  asked,  'Is  he  alive?'  and  she  shook  her  head.  '  Is 
his  little  daughter  still  living  in  America  ? '  I  asked.  She 
seemed  stopped  in  her  mind.  She  waited  with  her  eyes 
closed.  Oh,  how  I  trembled  for  those  next  words! 

" '  She  is  living,  but  she  is  far  away  and  never  can  re 
turn.  In  England  she  spends  her  life  now  that  her  father 
is  dead.' 

"  I  wanted  then  to  die.  My  white  father  I  called  him, 
for  he  was  all  the  father  I  knew,  —  my  little  white  sister, 
never  any  more!  And  then,  dear  friends,  the  wonder  hap 
pened.  When  that  last  hope  was  finished,  and  I  wanted 
nothing  here,  nor  had  any  way  left  to  go  that  was  better 
one  way  than  another,  then  said  He  who  Himself  had 
nothing,  who  asked,  '  Who  is  my  Brother  ? '  '  who  is  my 
Mother  ? '  to  me  He  said,  '  Sister,  come  with  me.' 

"That  is  all  my  message,  friends.  Very  few  are  those 
who  can  use  it.  Very  few  are  so  poor  as  to  have  nothing 
left  but  God.  Yet  these  are  the  Inheritors  of  His  Kingdom. 

"  I  count  myself  happy  among  the  daughters  for  this, 
that  I  have  no  father ;  among  the  sisters  that  I  have  no 
sister.  '  Lover  and  Friend  hast  thou  put  away  from  me, 
and  mine  acquaintance  into  darkness.'  That  thy  eternal 
Light  shall  shine  and  lead  me  in  the  way.  —  Amen  !  " 

Charlotte  stood  quiet,  her  hands  hanging  loosely  clasped, 
her  large,  sad  eyes  fixed  on  the  wall  of  trees  slowly  sway 
ing  in  the  air-current  drawn  inward  by  the  fire.  The  colo 
nel  watched  her,  hesitating  to  break  her  calm.  A  man  in 
black,  with  the  countenance  of  a  professional  shepherd, 
touched  him  on  the  shoulder. 

"  I  give  you  good-evening,  sir.  You  seem  moved.  I  have 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  149 

been  watching  you  and  saying  to  myself,  '  Here  is  another 
of  them  that  come  to  scoff  and  remain  to  pray  ! '  " 

The  colonel  avoided  this  person  who  had  laid  an  affec^ 
tionate  hand  on  his  shoulder.  He  saw  a  long-jawed,  sallow 
face,  and  a  shifty  eye.  The  loose-jointed  frame  belonging 
to  it  stood  directly  in  his  path,  swaying  slightly  from  side 
to  side,  the  eyes  blinking  at  him. 

"  I  seem  to  be  a  subject  for  texts  to-night,"  he  laughed 
peevishly.  "  Be  good  enough  to  step  aside,  friend.  I  would 
speak  with  that  girl  over  yonder." 

"  Sir,  I  know  not  by  what  authority  you  press  in  amongst 
us  and  demand  speech  with  the  divinely  inspired,  under 
my  protection.  That,  sir,  is  no  ordinary  4  girl,'  as  you  ex 
press  it." 

"  You  are  exceeding  right :  she  is  no  ordinary  girl  to 
me.  She  is  my  adopted  child,  lost  these  eight  years,  as  you 
have  heard  her  say,  and  found  by  the  blessing  of  God. 
As  to  my  authority,  I  am  the  owner  of  this  ground  we 
stand  on.  Will  that  suffice  to  introduce  us  ?  " 

"  Yea,  a  man  of  earth !  "  The  shepherd  closed  his 
eyes.  " '  He  that  is  of  the  earth  is  earthy  and  speaketh  of 
the  earth :  he  that  cometh  from  heaven  —  ' 

"  Confine  yourself  to  earth  long  enough  to  tell  me  your 
business  in  here,  on  my  share  of  it,  —  cutting  my  trees 
and  wounding  them  and  meddling  with  my  beaver  ?" 

"  Oh,  my  God  I  thank  thee !  Oh,  my  father,  my  father- 
captain  !  Here  is  Charlotte  —  take  me  home!  " 

Across  the  lighted  space  the  girl  had  recognized  her 
friend.  She  sprang  to  him  like  a  deer.  She  knelt  and 
clasped  his  knees  and  laid  her  graceful  head  against  his 
hand. 


150  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"My  father,  my  father,  I  thank  God  for  thee!  " 

She  who  had  but  just  thanked  Him  that  she  had  no 
father,  sat  at  the  feet  of  this  very  human  substitute  and 
wept  like  a  child.  The  colonel's  own  eyes  were  dim. 

Forgetful  of  all  but  themselves,  he  raised  his  poor  girl 
in  his  arms,  and  stroking  her  shoulder  while  she  laughed 
and  sobbed,  was  saying :  — 

"  You  see,  I  am  not  dead  nor  near  it.  Nor  is  little 
Catherine  in  England.  She  is  coming  to  live  with  me  soon. 
With  us  it  shall  be  now  !  " 

Charlotte  turned,  and  made  a  feast  as  it  were  of  her 
happiness,  offering  the  company  a  share  in  it. 

"  This  is  my  father,  my  best  friend,"  she  said,  "  who 
came  with  the  armies  and  took  me  out  of  darkness.  He 
that  was  dead  is  alive  again.  He  that  I  lost  I  have  found !  " 

"  Are  you  quite  certain  he  is  the  same  4  friend '  ?  "  the 
shepherd  sneered. 

"  I  had  but  one  to  lose,"  Charlotte  answered  simply. 
"  The  woman  lied  to  me.  She  said  she  was  of  God,  and 
spoke  words  from  heaven  sent  to  me  through  her.  It  was 
lies.  I  shall  follow  in  her  ways  no  farther.  God  is  better 
than  she  said." 

"  Now,  sir,  I  must  be  plain  with  you." 

The  shepherd  took  up  his  side  of  the  case,  appealing  to 
the  audience  round  the  camp-fire.  Colonel  Yelverton,  with 
Charlotte  beside  him,  stood  at  the  bar  of  this  rude  court 
of  adjudicature.  To  snatch  a  beautiful  girl  away  from  a  re 
ligious  mission  for  which  she  seemed  so  peculiarly  set  apart, 
to  poison  the  source  of  her  inspiration,  would  be  no  light 
matter,  sprung  at  a  moment's  notice  upon  simple-minded 
judges  such  as  these. 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  151 

"  I  am  this  young  woman's  guardian  in  her  holy  pilgrim 
age.  I  have  seen  her  save  souls,  and  bring  tough  hearts  to 
the  mourners'  seat.  I  am  likewise  responsible  for  her 
friends ;  and  I  appeal  to  all  present,  if  I  should  be  doing 
well  to  hand  her  over  to  one,  a  gentleman  of  a  very  differ 
ent  way  of  life  and  belief,  —  if  indeed  he  have  any  belief  at 
all, —  however  distinguished,  as  I  acknowledge  this  gentle 
man  to  be."  A  low  bow  to  Colonel  Yelverton,  who  stared 
at  the  speaker.  "  However  able  in  a  worldly  sense  to  pro 
vide  for  her  beyond  my  own  poor  means,  as  one  of  the 
unpaid  ministry  of  Christ.  Would  I  be  right,  I  ask  you, 
friends  and  fellow  Christians,  to  abandon  her  ?  Yield  her 
up  to  him  on  no  evidence  but  his  demand  and  her  own  ex 
cited  imagination  ?  Persons  endowed  as  she  is  are  subject 
to  illusions,  are  known  often  to  deceive  themselves  in  the 
appearance  of  things.  Her  friend,  she  has  just  told  us,  is 
dead.  And  lo  !  another  appears,  and  straightway  he  is  the 
one !  Where  is  the  proof  of  this  ?  A  man  would  not  give 
up  his  dog  on  such  an  order  from  a  stranger." 

"  Dogs  don't  mistake  their  masters,"  said  one  from  the 
crowd. 

"  What  proof  do  you  ask  ?  "  the  captain  answered.  Shall 
not  a  human  heart  be  trusted  as  far  as  the  memory  of  a  dog? 
There  is  no  question  of  master  here.  If  any  present  doubt 
this  girl's  identity  with  my  adopted  child,  that  I  lost  eight 
years  agone,  let  him  step  up  and  compare  this  description 
with  the  original  who  stands  before  us.  Stay,  I  will  read 
it  for  all  and  sundry.  Charlotte,  will  you  permit  the  com 
parison  ?  Stand  forth  and  let  them  look  at  you,  my  girl. 
Now,  good  people,  check  me  off  as  I  read.  This  was  printed 
in  the  "  Pennsylvania  Gazette,"  July  12,  1765,  less  than 


152  THE   EOYAL  AMERICANS 

a  fortnight  after  I  lost  this  child  who  asks  me  to  take  her 
home." 

The  captain  in  a  loud  voice  read  from  a  yellow  news 
paper  cutting  which  he  took  from  his  notebook :  — 

"  '  Information  wanted,  or  any  clew  to  her  whereabouts, 
of  a  young  white  girl  answering  to  the  christened  name  of 
Charlotte,  or  to  a  Shawanoese  name  which  signifies  Moon- 
in-the-Lake,  the  same  being  the  legally  adopted  daughter  of 
Captain  Edmund  Yelverton  of  the  Royal  American  regi 
ment,  etc.,  etc.  Age  about  thirteen  years,  height  5  feet  1 
inch,  hands  of  a  size  to  match  a  tall  woman's  proportions, 
feet  small  for  the  same,  eyes  large,  dark  hazel,  eyebrows 
placed  some  distance  above  the  eyes,  mouth  and  nose  in 
just  proportion,  forehead  low  and  chin  pointed,  hair  dark, 
soft,  and  inclined  to  curl,  neck  long,  a  straight  and  comely 
person.  Speaks  indifferent  English,  understands  a  little 
French,  was  a  captive  since  before  her  recollection  to  the 
savages,  who  tattooed  her  on  the  breast  in  blue  pigment 
with  the  totem  of  the  Wolf,  from  which  clan  she  came  in 
the  tribe  that  held  her.  This  should  be  a  conclusive  proof 
of  the  child's  identity  if  found  or  heard  from.  A  liberal 
reward  awaits,  etc.,  etc.' 

"  Now,  if  this  be  not  a  true  description  of  the  young 
woman  who  stands  before  you,  allowing  for  eight  years,  let 
whoever  says  nay  step  forth  and  name  the  error." 

"  The  mark  !  "  said  a  voice. 

"  For  shame !  "  said  a  second  voice. 

"  Friends,  the  mark  is  here,  if  you  demand  to  see  it.  But 
I  think  there  are  none  who  will  doubt  my  word  when  I  say 
't  is  the  same  I  spoke  of  which  I  did  so  hate,  yet  it  carried 
me  through  the  tribes  unscathed." 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  153 

Charlotte  stood  with  one  hand  on  the  breast  of  her 
gown,  awaiting  the  verdict. 

A  man  in  hunter's  buckskins  stood  up  in  the  circle  of 
rude  suffragists.  "  I  think  we  are  all  satisfied,"  he  said, 
"  but  the  girl  should  be  asked  if  she  clearly  desires  this 
change  of  guardians  here  upon  the  spot,  of  her  own  free 
will." 

"  She  hath  already  spoke,"  said  the  colonel,  "  but  ask 
her  yourselves." 

"  Mistress,  do  you  go  with  this  gentleman  of  your  own 
free  intention,  without  secret  or  undue  influence  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  said  Charlotte,  adding  as  she  looked  at  the 
colonel,  "  '  Where  thou  goest,  I  will  go ;  thy  people  shall 
be  my  people,  and  thy  God  my  God.' ' 

"  Well,  thou  shalt  keep  the  same  God,  my  girl,  and  my 
little  Catherine  shall  be  thy  sister.  And  my  roof  shall  be 
over  you  both.  Mr.  —  what  is  your  name  ?  " 

Here  a  dolorous  sound  was  heard,  a  hoarse,  muffled 
roar  from  the  near  background.  "  Help,  help !  Let  me 
out ! " 

"  What  in  perdition  does  this  mean,  Obadiah  ?  Who  is 
that  yelling  back  there  ?  " 

Obadiah,  having  put  himself  in  the  colonel's  view,  was 
held  responsible,  —  his  manner  betraying  an  unwarranted 
satisfaction  at  the  sounds  referred  to. 

"  Why,  sir,  I  was  comin'  to  tell  you  supper  's  ready,  V 
I  met  a  man  in  the  trees  back  there ;  he  said  Abram  was 
dead,  V  the  prophets  was  dead,  and  he  asked  me, '  Whom 
maketh  thou  thyself.  ? ' 

"  Well,  I  can  quote  Scripture  considerable,  but  not 's 
straight  ez  thet  when  my  head 's  full  o'  liquor.  I  never 


154  THE   KOYAL  AMERICANS 

saw  a  man  yet  puttin'  on  he  was  drunk  when  he  wa'n't, 
'thout  he  needed  watchin'.  Not  knowin'  what  he  might 
take  a  notion  to  do  when  my  back  was  turned,  I  shoved 
him  like  into  that  cow-pen,  and  took  a  turn  with  a  rope 
round  the  fastenin'.  Maybe  he  ain't  been  able  to  let  him 
self  out." 

"Why,  so  it  would  appear,"  the  colonel  laughed. 
"  Would  you  send  some  one  to  him,  or  do  you  agree  with 
Obadiah  Smith  he  were  as  well  saved  with  the  rest  of  the 
prophets  ?  I  believe  I  did  not  catch  your  name  ?  " 

"  My  surname  is  Wilkinson,"  the  shepherd  sighed.  "  I 
was  baptized  Naboth,  but  my  vineyard  is  in  the  hands  of 
the  oppressor." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Naboth  Wilkinson,  shall  we  release  the 
prophet  ?  or  shall  we  leave  him  whilst  you  come  to  supper 
with  me  ?  Obadiah,  have  you  trout  and  coffee  enough  for 
three?" 

"  If  the  trout  fall  short,  colonel,  I  think  likely  Mr.  Na 
both  here  could  help  us  out  with  a  dish  o'  beaver-tail 
stew." 

There  was  a  roar  of  laughter  at  the  mention  of  beaver 
stew.  The  shepherd  smiled  modestly. 

"  Yaas,"  Obadiah  drawled.  "  I  been  studyin'  some  o' 
the  outlyin'  features  of  this  religious  camp-meetin' :  I 
guess  't  ain't  quite  all  religion  fetches  'em  in  here.  Simon 
Bar-jona  in  the  cowshed 's  wintered  here  plain  enough,  — 
sendin'  wood  down  the  crick  'n'  raisin'  Almighty  with  the 
beaver.  This  gentleman  's  only  just  arrived  with  pleasant 
weather,  to  set  up  a  salvation  camp.  All  the  same  job, 
though,  guess  you  '11  find.  If  you  want  to  make  any  sort  of 
swap  with  Mr.  Naboth,  guess  you  might  debit  him  about 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  155 

a  hundred  or  two  prime  beaver-skins.  He  's  on  the  Albany 
eend  o'  the  traffic.  Say,  ain't  thet  so,  Naboth?" 

Naboth  went  along  meekly,  to  sup  with  the  oppressor. 
He  lay  by  the  colonel's  camp-fire  that  night,  —  the  colo 
nel  would  take  no  denial,  —  and  when,  on  the  following 
morning,  the  salvation  camp  broke  up,  Charlotte  went 
home  with  the  oppressor. 


CHAPTER  XX 

LITTLE  as  there  was  to  talk  about  in  that  sparsely 
peopled  region,  all  personal  news  flew  qn  the  wings  of  the 
wind ;  nor  did  Lady  Wind  lack  a  touch  of  dramatic  in 
vention  to  raise  her  above  the  level  of  a  common  gossip. 
Imagination  is  seldom  a  liar.  She  merely  expands  the 
truth.  Colonel  Yelverton  would  not  have  denied  that  he 
bought  off  the  shepherd ;  although  he  assured  himself  that, 
in  any  case,  he  would  have  let  him  off  with  his  disappear 
ance. 

If  Charlotte  came  into  the  transaction  at  all,  he  simply 
had  ransomed  her  as  the  quickest  way  to  get  her  out  of 
unworthy  hands  without  an  ugly  controversy.  Ransom  is 
a  perfectly  good  word  when  you  deal  with  a  wolf  in  sheep's 
clothing,  and  there  is  a  lamb  to  be  torn,  but  hush-money 
has  a  different  sound. 

Those  who  called  it  that,  and  believed  in  "  the  stack  of 
guineas  the  breadth  of  your  two  hands  high,"  were  persons 
beneath  notice.  Still  it  was  inconvenient,  had  the  colonel 
but  known,  that  two  of  them  should  be  of  his  own  house 
hold. 

"  Cookie,"  as  he  called  her,  and  her  husband,  an  igno 
rant,  childless  couple  of  few  wants,  whom  he  had  imported 
as  his  caretakers,  were  the  elderly  serpents  he  warmed  in 
his  bosom.  Charlotte's  eagerness  to  be  of  use,  to  show 
she  had  learned  to  work,  and  was  not  above  earning  her 
salt,  had  alarmed  the  old  housekeeper,  who  thought  the 
end  of  her  own  job  was  in  sight.  There  was  a  large  beam 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HEK  COUNTRY  157 

in  her  old,  shrewd,  watery  eye  when  she  looked  upon 
Charlotte.  To  old  Mimi  she  was  the  supplanter. 

Some  of  the  trifling  but  annoying  results  of  this  kintra- 
clatter  might  be  summed  up  in  the  following  conversation 
between  the  colonel  and  his  friend  Major  McLean,  the 
autocrat. 

It  was  after  supper,  Charlotte  having  left  the  gentlemen 
to  their  pipes  and  tumblers  of  flip.  McLean  had  changed 
his  seat  to  one  nearer  the  fire.  The  colonel  had  squared 
around  in  his  chair  to  face  him.  The  same  moon  that 
lighted  Catherine's  voyage  up  the  Hudson  shone  down 
through  the  trees  on  Charlotte's  evening  range  of  wood- 
paths,  where  she  walked  or  ran  as  a  bird  from  the  snare. 
Her  youth  had  come  back,  and  peace  like  a  foretaste  of 
heaven  was  in  the  present  of  this  new,  free,  innocent  home ; 
and  in  the  future  was  Catherine. 

She  was  in  the  forest  alone  once  more,  in  the  silence 
no  wood-lover  can  forget,  with  that  immeasurable  joy, 
awake  and  pulsating,  that  comes  with  a  night  of  perfect 
spring. 

"  How  does  4  cookie ' get  along  with  Charlotte,  eh?  "  the 
major  asked. 

"  That  's  of  no  consequence,"  said  the  colonel  airily. 
"  Cookie  can  leave  if  she  can't  get  along  with  Charlotte." 

"Then  she  doesn't  get  along?"  McLean  promptly 
inferred. 

"  How  should  I  know  ?  I  never  asked  her." 

"  Tell  you  what,  cookie  must  n't  leave  !  Cookie  must  n't 
leave  till  the  little  daughter  comes." 

We  have  said  the  major  was  an  autocrat.  Also  he  was 
a  gossip,  and  the  best-hearted  busybody  in  the  world,  and 


158  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

there  was  no  muzzling  him  when  he  was  in  the  mood  for 
advice. 

"  What  are  you  aiming  at  ?  "  the  colonel  inquired. 

"  It  wouldn't  be  fair  to  Charlotte.  You  can  see  that, 
Ned,  can't  you  ?  You  want  to  treat  the  girl,  you  say,  as 
you  would  a  lady." 

"  I  want  to  treat  her  as  I  would  a  daughter.  Have  I  got 
to  have  my  daughter  duennaed  in  my  own  house  ?" 

"  She  is  not  your  daughter,  and  she  is  a  devilish  hand 
some  young  woman.  That  is  what  I  mean,  if  you  will  have 
it,  and  that 's  what  others  mean  who  say  a  vast  deal  more 
than  any  friend  of  yours  cares  to  listen  to." 

"Then  why  do  you  listen,  hang  it!  This  world's  no 
place  for  a  decent  man  to  live  in.  Before  I  'd  have  thought, 
McLean,  you  'd  bring  such  stuff  to  me,  I  'd  —  God,  what  a 
world  it  is  !  " 

The  colonel  banged  his  fist  upon  the  table.  He  jumped 
up  and  poked  the  fire,  and  tramped  about  the  room,  blow 
ing  off  his  indignation  in  tobacco  smoke. 

"  Tut,  tut !  Come  and  sit  down  !  Don't  go  raging  around 
like  that.  Not  a  bit  o'  use  in  it.  The  world 's  well  enough," 
said  the  major,  "  only  you  're  a  braver  man  than  most  of 
us,  Ned.  We  want  to  prick  your  bubble  reputation  for 
chivalry  of  the  sort  that 's  gone  out." 

"  What  makes  you  think  it 's  gone  out,  if  you  call  it 
4  chivalry '  not  to  throw  your  word  and  your  honor  to  the 
dogs  ?  If  you  are  fooling,  this  is  no  subject  for  it.  I  wish 
you  'd  let  my  domestic  affairs  alone,  or  get  some  of  your 
own  to  fuss  about." 

"  See,  there  you  go !  Mad  as  a  turkey-cock,  and  if  any 
but  an  old  friend  heard  you  and  saw  you,  he  'd  say  you 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  159 

showed  plain  enough  where  the  shoe  pinches.  Is  n't  it  bet 
ter  to  stand  a  word  from  an  old  crony  and  be  done  with  it, 
than  have  some  that  are  not  your  friends  hackin'  at  your 
back  whenever  it 's  turned! " 

"  My  back  's  always  turned  to  that  breed.  Let  them 
make  the  most  of  it." 

"  You  're  wrong,  you  're  wrong !  It 's  back  to  back  in  this 
fight.  We  've  got  enemies  enough  around  us  here,  on 
grounds  enough,  good  Lord  !  But  don't  let  them  lay  a  finger 
on  our  private  lives.  The  first  woman  to  come  into  this  house 
ought  to  be  your  daughter  or  your  wife.  Why  don't  you 
make  her  your  wife  and  ha'  done  with  it  ?  " 

"  Charlotte  my  wife  ?  The  woman  does  n't  live  on  this 
earth  that  I  shall  ever  marry." 

"  Why  ?  "  As  the  colonel  did  not  answer,  McLean  asked 
more  gently,  "  Is  it  because  of  some  one  in  this  world, 
or  —  ?" 

"  Both,"  said  the  colonel.  "  For  God's  sake,  I  wish  you 
would  n't  talk  to  me  !  " 

For  a  brief  space  the  major  refrained.  Then  silence  drew 
his  thoughts  out  of  him.  His  intentions  were  of  the  best. 

"  I  heard  a  story  in  New  York  about  you  and  John 
Johnson  at  a  dinner-table  —  pretty  soon  after  his  engage 
ment  came  out.  I  want  to  know  if  it  is  true  ?  " 

"  I  dare  say,"  said  the  colonel. 

"The  whole  of  it?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  heard." 

"  Hold  your  horses,  then,  and  I  '11  tell  you.  I  heard  that 
Sir  John  called  a  toast  to  the '  lovely,  the  most  amiable  — '  " 

"  No  names,  please  !  " 

"  Well,  he  named  a  name  —  of  the  lady  he  is  to  marry, 


160  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

—  and  Colonel  Yelverton  sets  his  glass  down  half-full  and 
looks  Sir  John  in  the  eye,  who  says,  « Colonel  Yelverton 
declines  the  toast  ?  ' 

"  Colonel  Yelverton  owns  that  he  cannot  swallow  the 
whole  of  it.  4  Which  half,'  says  Sir  John,  '  does  Colonel 
Yelverton  reject? ' 

"  '  This,'  says  Colonel  Yelverton,  and  flings  the  remains 
of  his  wine  in  Sir  John's  —  " 

"  No,"  the  colonel  shouted.  "  I  spared  his  face,  d — n 
him!  I  dyed  his  shirt-frill,  where  I  hoped  to  stick  my 
rapier.  But  it  was  not  to  be." 

"  When  I  heard  that,"  sighed  the  major,  "  I  said  to 
myself, 4  Could  Ned  Yelverton  have  been  as  drunk  as  that, 
or  has  he  gone  clean  mad  ?  Has  he  gone  mad,'  I  said, 4  or 
was  he  — eh?'" 

"  He  was  and  is,  off  and  on  —  Now  say  no  more  to  me ! 
I  did  it,  not  because  I  was  drunk  or  mad,  nor  to  pay  him 
for  his  lies  about  me,  nor  because  I  wanted  the  same  lady 
once,  but  to  save  that  hound  from  breaking  her  heart." 

"  He  '11  not  break  it,  my  boy.  He  '11  cover  it  with  jewels." 

"  By  George  and  the  Garter !  You  can't  say  that  to  me, 
McLean—" 

"  Be  you  easy.  I  know  them  all  —  I  heard  the  sequel  of 
the  meeting,  too.  How  papa  Watts,  good  man,  got  the 
constables  in  time  to  save  his  titled  son-in-law,  he,  he ! " 

"  What 's  come  over  you  to-night,  you  old  scandal 
monger  ?  —  Any  man  will  bring  constables  if  the  matter 
leaks  out.  I  don't  say  Sir  John  let  it  out ;  but  if  you  will 
carry  tales,  that 's  a  better  one  than  stuff  about  Mr.  Watts. 
Of  course  Sir  John  let  it  out,"  the  colonel  added  mo 
rosely.  "  He  did  n't  want  the  stain  on  his  ruffles  to  sink  in." 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  161 

"  Aye,  why  should  he  ?  Why  should  the  expectant 
bridegroom  be  covetous  of  death  ?  Now,  what  will  you  say 
to  each  other  if  you  should  chance  to  meet  again  ?  " 

"  I  see  no  chance  of  such  a  meeting." 

"There's  every  chance  of  it.  He  has  interests  up  here. 
Promise  me  you  '11  not  be  the  aggressor." 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  slay  my  old  sweetheart's  husband. 
Now  she  has  married  him,  let  her  keep  him.  Why  should 
I  court  a  common  brawl  for  the  sake  of  another  man's 
wife,  when  I  've  a  child  of  my  own  to  live  for ! " 

"  Good,  sensible  old  lad !  Better  than  I  dared  build  on 
thee,  Ned!  And  now,  if  you  would  but  marry  and  settle 
down  to  your  old  age  with  a  half-score  of  kitlings  round 
your  knees,  I  'd  be  the  happier  man  myself." 

"  That  can  never  be,  Jack." 

"  Well,  when  is  the  daughter  coming?  " 

"  When  I  have  a  house  fit  for  her." 

"  That 's  a  trumpery  notion.  No  house  !  What  do  you 
want  of  a  house  better  than  this  ?  " 

"  There  's  no  room  in  it.  I  'm  in  the  only  bedroom.  The 
old  folks  are  in  the  garret.  I  've  had  a  partition  in  to 
make  a  corner  for  poor  Charlotte,  who  'd  be  happier  in 
a  tree." 

"  Build  on  an  ell." 

"  Why  waste  money  when  the  house  itself  will  be  ready 
in  October  ?  The  hang  of  it  is  —  to  get  her  here !  I  seem 
never  able  to  lift  a  foot  out  of  this  hole,  now  I  'm  planted 
in  it." 
i  "  Plant  some  one  else  in  your  place." 

"  Can  you  produce  the  man  ?  " 

"  I  have  thought  I  could ;  whiles  I  've  thought  so.  Know 


162  THE  ROYAL   AMERICANS 

who  you  've  got  on  your  left  elbow  here  —  over  the  sugar- 
maple  tract  and  the  duck  swamp?  No  house  yet." 

"  It  's  a  pretty  bit  of  land.  Not  so  big  but  a  man  might 
buy  it  in,  if  he  knew  who  owns  it  and  could  get  his  relations 
to  lend  him  the  money." 

"  I  '11  tell  you,  then.  It 's  a  young  fellow  Phil  Schuyler 
has  planted  in  his  hole.  He  's  a  dabster  at  anything;  can 
choose  your  timber  and  sled  it  out,  and  set  up  your  saw 
mill  and  saw  your  stuff  and  raft  it  down  the  river  and  sell 
it  and  load  you  a  ship  for  the  Indies  —  " 

"  Gammon !  If  there  is  such  a  man  I  don't  want 
him ! " 

"  Gammon  all  you  like.  He  's  Phil's  right  hand  !  And 
a  fine  up-standing  chap  to  boot.  I  don't  believe  Phil 
needs  him  winters.  Why  don't  you  fetch  him  here  to  look 
after  your  affairs,  and  cut  loose  ?  Go  to  New  York  or  to 
London.  Introduce  your  daughter.  Make  yourself  gay. 
Purple  and  fine  linen.  No  use  burying  yourself  before  you 
are  dead." 

"  What  is  his  name  ?  " 

"  Dunbar  is  his  name." 

"  Dunbar  ?  My  little  Catherine  used  to  play  with  a  boy 
of  that  name  —  Barry  —  Barry  Dunbar,  was  it  ?  " 

"Bassy  Dunbar!  " 
.  "  That 's  the  name.  But  I  don't  know  what  Bassy  is  for." 

"  Bassett,  perhaps,  or  Bassinger." 

"  Can't  be  Bassinger.  There  's  only  one  branch  left  of 
them  ;  monstrous  swells  they  are." 

"  There  have  been  swells  a  few  amongst  the  Dunbar  s." 

"  There  are  thousands  of  Dunbars." 

"  Well,  this  one  's  no  swell,  but  the  name  has  no  cause 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  163 

to  be  ashamed  of  him.  You  '11  give  me  right  when  you  see 
him." 

"  I  saw  him  when  he  was  a  boy,  and  got  a  bit  jealous  of 
him  for  an  only  companion  to  my  little  girl.  I  flung  away 
a  twenty-pounder  on  a  pony  to  buy  her  back  to  her  daddy." 

"  What  a  fool  you  are,  Ned  !  " 

"  I  am  not  such  a  fool  as  to  bring  that  young  sprig  up 
here  to  fall  in  love  with  my  girl,  and  mayhap  win  her. 
You  never  can  tell  in  a  place  like  this." 

"  Why  should  n't  it  be  Charlotte  ?  If  you  bring  him  up 
here  now,  he  '11  see  her  first." 

"  I  've  no  doubt  you  '11  fix  it  up  all  your  own  way.  I 
thought  I  was  to  have  him  here  winters." 

"  Winter  's  too  far  off.  It 's  a  good  idea,  Ned.  I  wish 
you  'd  write  to  Schuyler  —  say  I  told  you  about  the  chap. 
You  can  get  him  for  less  than  Phil  pays  him.  You  'd  have 
less  to  do,  and  he  'd  get  a  chance  to  improve  his  own  land. 
There  's  a  vast  amount  to  do  in  winter  on  a  new  tract." 

"  Then  I  can't  shoot  his  ducks  any  more.  And  if  he 
won't  sell  —  " 

"  You  can't  tell  what  he  '11  do.  I  wish  you  'd  have  him 
up  here." 

"  I  shall  not  do  so,  thanks,  old  man.  My  household  is 
all  I  can  manage  as  it  is." 

"  So  you  won't  do  anything  I  want  you  to  ?  " 

"  I  won't  marry  Charlotte  ;  that 's  certain." 

"And  you  won't  fetch  up  your  daughter  nor  get  Dunbar 
away  from  Phil  Schuyler,  who 's  a  magician,  sir  ?  He 
could  make  a  good  tool  of  any  man,  for  he 's  the  grind 
stone." 

"  Phil  Schuyler  is  as  generous  as  any  man  that  lives !  " 


164  THE  EOYAL  AMERICANS 

"  Who  said  he  was  n't  ?  I  say  he  can  bring  out  a  man's 
metal  when  another  will  hack  him  to  pieces  or  leave  him 
to  rust ;  and  so  he  can,  and  this  chap  shows  it." 

"Then  let  him  use  his  own  tools.  Why  should  I  fish 
them  away  from  him  ?  " 

"  At  least  you  '11  keep  cookie  till  the  daughter  comes  ?  " 

Yelverton  roared  at  his  friend's  persistence,  but  there 
was  irritation  in  his  mirth.  He  and  the  major  invariably 
quarreled  over  something  when  they  met ;  their  friendship 
could  bear  it. 

44  And  put  a  shroud  over  that  girl's  good  looks !  " 
7  "A  shroud?" 

"  I  don't  mean  a  winding-sheet,"  said  the  major.  "Any 
thing  that  will  hide  it.  She  outfaces  the  day.  Not  Mistress 
Watts  nor  any  woman  I  know  can  hold  a  candle  to  her." 

44  My  little  Catherine  can  !  Not  for  beauty  out  and  out, 
but  a  sort  of  wonderful  intelligence  that  meets  your  every 
thought,  and  a  sweetness  that  warms  the  cold  spot,  if 
you've  got  one,  and  takes  the  poison  out  of  the  black 
spot  —  not  yours,  you  old  villain  !  You  're  all  black  —  to 
the  core !  You  and  your  world,  that  you  fetch  here  like  an 
old  stinking  bone,  and  fling  in  my  face  !  " 

44  Well,  well.  I  '11  be  off  and  take  my  bone  with  me," 
growled  McLean. 

Both  knew  the  other's  style  of  joking.  They  settled 
down  comfortably  to  another  pipe. 

Meddling  is  a  species  of  human  mischief  as  incalculable 
in  the  direction  it  may  take  as  in  its  meandering  results. 

The  major  thought  he  had  only  a  man's  feelings  to  con 
sider  in  this  onslaught,  and  one  hardened  as  the  nicest  may 
become  in  years  of  camp  and  mess-room  life  and  the  idle 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  165 

talk  of  cities.  The  colonel  had  romped  about  like  a  thin- 
skinned  horse  with  a  fly  on  its  ear,  and  his  friend  had 
laughed  at  him.  He  would  not  have  laughed  could  he  have 
seen  who  was  standing  outside  the  window. 

Charlotte  had  come  swinging  down  a  long  slope  toward 
the  house,  its  lights  meeting  her  through  the  trees,  hands 
on  hips  that  swayed  with  her  rhythmic  step,  head  thrown 
back,  chanting  great  verses  from  the  Prophets.  She  was 
thinking  of  her  own  wanderings,  of  the  deep  waters  she  had 
passed  through,  and  of  a  hand  stretched  out,  the  hand  of 
her  captain,  her  lord  and  deliverer.  The  prophets  can  say 
these  things  so  much  better ! 

" '  Again  he  measured  a  thousand  and  brought  me 
through  the  waters ;  the  waters  were  to  the  knees.  Again 
he  measured  a  thousand,  and  brought  me  through;  the 
waters  were  to  the  loins. 

" '  Afterwards  he  measured  a  thousand ;  and  it  was  a 
river  that  I  could  not  pass  over,  for  the  waters  were  risen 
—  a  river  that  could  not  be  passed  over.' ' 

She  was  now  close  to  the  house ;  a  window  on  that  side 
had  been  raised  to  mitigate  the  heat  of  the  gradually  in 
creasing  fire.  She  stood  without,  in  one  of  the  listening 
silences  of  the  night,  and  heard  her  own  name  spoken,  — 
heard  the  colonel  shout  in  a  voice  that  reached  her 
where  she  stood  :  — 

"  I  won't  marry  Charlotte  ;  that  is  certain  !  " 


CHAPTEK  XXI 

CATHERINE'S  letter  to  her  father  went  by  mail-coach  as 
far  as  Albany,  thence  more  slowly,  by  wilder,  uncertain 
routes,  to  the  edge  of  the  Hampshire  Grants.  But  before 
it  reached  him  there  were  six  June  days  and  six  June 
nights  of  moonlight  sailing  past  the  shores  of  the  Hudson 
—  for  two  young  persons  whose  united  ages  did  not  reach 
forty  years. 

Six  miraculous  days  according  to  Genesis  sufficed  for 
the  creation  of  the  world.  It  was  at  the  Book  of  Genesis 
life  opened  for  these  two.  As  they  leaned  side  by  side  on 
the  sloop's  rail  in  the  magical  sunsets,  lying  at  anchor 
waiting  for  the  tide  in  the  shadow  of  the  Highlands,  or 
slowly  going  about  to  catch  a  wind  that  filled  the  sails 
absently  like  a  force  encountered  in  a  dream  —  they  looked 
into  each  other's  eyes  and  read  there  the  first  command, 
and  almost  without  words  obeyed  —  potentially ;  and  what 
potency  is  there  like  youth ! 

Had  Bassy  Dunbar  stood  there  at  Catherine's  side,  in 
stead  of  the  Quaker  boy,  we  dare  not  say  her  answer 
would  not  have  been  the  same.  Yet  Francis  Havergal  had 
strong  aids  in  his  wooing.  Its  very  diffidence,  its  suppres 
sion  of  all  that  could  startle  a  young  girl  at  the  beginning 
of  her  woman's  experience,  prepared  the  way  silently  for 
the  moment  when  it  took  inevitable  hold  of  them  both. 
Never  at  any  time  had  he  been  aware  that  he  was  wooing 
her :  he  was  as  unprepared  as  the  child  herself,  when  he 
realized  she  was  won. 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  167 

Let  us  consider  what  Francis  was  at  twenty-two.  There 
are  Quakers  who  are  born  men  of  the  world,  who  at  least 
are  born  with  a  fear  of  the  world  —  with  an  outer  sense 
that  drills  them  into  line,  teaches  them  what  to  avoid  and 
how  to  conform.  How,  for  instance,  did  Francis  know  that, 
bareheaded  on  the  sloop's  deck,  he  was  one  of  the  classic 
types  of  youth,  and,  wearing  his  broad-brimmed  hat,  a 
Quaker  ?  His  first  instinctive  tribute  to  the  girl  of  the 
"  world's  people,"  when  she  came  on  board,  was  to  abolish 
the  differences  between  them ;  to  get  rid  of,  on  any  ex 
cuse  or  without  any,  the  hall-marks  of  the  sect  that  set 
him  apart  from  other  men. 

He  had  already  rid  himself  of  one.  On  his  first  visit  to 
the  city  at  sixteen,  he  abandoned  the  use  of  "  thee  "  and 
"  thou"  to  persons  who  said  "you  "  to  him.  The  promis 
cuous  "  thee  "  of  the  Friends,  he  saw  at  once,  conveyed  to 
those  not  accustomed  an  effect  of  condescension  or  of  in 
timacy  not  to  be  endured.  Used  as  among  them  commonly, 
it  belied  their  average  education.  It  was  a  non-essential. 
He  dwelt  on  this  point  for  his  parents'  sake ;  to  him  it 
made  no  particle  of  difference.  Having  explained  his 
reasons,  he  maintained  a  cool  silence  but  took  his  own 
way. 

His  height  was  five  feet  ten,  with  symmetry  in  every 
line.  The  straight  military  cut  of  the  Quaker  coat  and 
waistcoat,  the  absence  of  color,  the  plain  white  neck-cloth, 
suited  his  delicate,  olive  face  and  Florentine  type  of  fea 
tures.  His  expression,  with  such  features,  could  not  fail 
of  sensitiveness ;  but  the  force  of  his  face  lay  in  the  eye, 
long,  black,  turgid  at  times,  watchful  and  unyielding  as  if 
he  had  lived  and  kept  his  own  counsel  in  the  world  for 


168  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

fifty  years.  It  was  an  eye  of  power ;  also  it  seemed  capable 
of  cruelty,  of  the  unconscious  sort,  which  some  natures 
are  destined  to  give  out  as  a  flower  releases  its  character 
istic  odor,  baneful  or  sustaining.  To  watch  him  speak  or 
smile  was  to  take  one's  fill  of  beauty.  And  no  one  had 
ever  told  him  of  it.  Women  looked  at  him  in  the  street. 
He  believed  it  was  his  coat  and  hat  that  marked  him. 
The  thought  filled  him  with  rage. 

He  was  in  no  respect  a  Quaker  in  his  convictions,  yet 
cared  for  none  of  the  evangelical  forms  of  worship.  Re 
ligion  was  of  no  importance  to  him  compared  to  being 
made  conspicuous.  The  visitations,  the  wrestlings  and  ex 
ordiums  of  the  elders  of  the  meeting  would  have  been 
a  price  too  heavy  to  pay  for  even  sincerity.  His  apostasy 
showed  in  a  lack  of  enthusiasm,  a  sense  of  the  ridiculous 
connected  with  certain  of  the  old  Quaker  forms,  to  most 
young  members  of  his  age  hallowed  by  kindly  usage  and 
tradition.  His  conscience  was  largely  made  up  of  fastidi 
ousness.  He  was  intensely  secretive  without  knowing  it 
for  a  fault,  and  took  himself  to  task  for  certain  things,  but 
not  the  right  ones.  He  avoided  young  women  because  he 
felt  their  influence  too  much.  His  life  was  as  pure  as  his 
brother  David's,  but  his  thoughts  were  different ;  and  be 
cause  of  these  thoughts,  through  which  Nature  sought  to 
unite  him  with  his  kind,  he  fell  on  darkest  suspicion  of 
Nature  herself  in  her  dealings  with  unwary  youth,  and 
watched  himself  closer  than  before. 

He  never  had  witnessed  a  dramatic  representation  of 
human  passion,  never  had  read  of  love  except  in  Milton 
and  the  Bible,  —  never  touched  a  card,  or  a  girl's  hand 
in  the  dance.  The  only  woman  he  ever  had  kissed  was  his 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  169 

mother ;  her  not  since  he  was  fourteen.  She  loved  him  best 
of  all  her  children. 

Francis  had  seen  the  young  stranger  first,  who  was 
going  up  the  river  with  them,  as  she  was  coming  out  of 
meeting.  Faces  there  were  inside  those  sheath-like  bon 
nets  that  any  one  might  pause  to  gaze  at ;  none  with  the 
message  that  face  had  for  him.  Others  were  talking 
around  her.  He  could  watch  her,  himself  unseen. 

He  went  home  disturbed  and  dreamed  all  day  of  the 
voyage.  He  could  not  sleep  that  night  for  seeing  her  face 
against  the  dark.  All  young  hearts  surcharged  with  passion 
are  prophetic.  He  believed  that  the  days  before  him, 
whether  for  bliss  or  torment,  would  be  for  ever  memorable. 

The  first  use  he  made  of  his  propinquity  to  this  perilous 
being  was  to  investigate  her  every  movement  when  he 
could  do  so  openly;  at  all  other  times  in  swift  eye-flashes 
as  opportunity  left  him  free.  Her  garments,  of  a  fashion 
he  never  before  had  seen  so  intimately,  affected  him  like 
enchantment ;  the  colors  she  wore  bathed  his  senses  in 
subtle  joys.  She  sang  to  herself  in  the  moonlight,  and 
her  voice  sent  shivers  through  his  pulses.  The  simplest  of 
girls,  she  was  to  the  Quaker  boy  a  siren.  His  life  had  been 
unnatural,  and  Nature  was  taking  one  of  her  reckless 
revenges. 

With  woven  paces  and  with  waving  hands,  or  means  as 
mysteriously  insignificant,  the  spell  of  spells  drew  in  about 
him. 

To  look  at  Catherine  openly  in  the  moonlight,  after  fur 
tively  watching  her  all  day,  was  something  akin  to  de 
lirium.  What  but  madness  could  it  lead  to  ?  Considering 
the  rules  of  Quaker  discipline  relating  to  marriages  "  out 


170  THE  KOYAL  AMERICANS 

of  Meeting,"  and  considering  the  fathers,  on  her  side  and 
his,  madness  it  was. 

But  at  twenty-two,  to  feel  the  power  love  gives  is  to  use 
it.  Catherine  had  no  more  coquetry  than  a  new-blown 
rose.  She  did  not  seek  even  delay ;  for  what  did  life  mean 
but  this !  Why  had  fate  put  them  on  this  boat  together, 
but  to  sail  on  and  find  the  Enchanted  Isles? 

His  first  use  of  his  bewildering  power  over  her  was  to 
lose  his  control  of  himself  —  to  kiss  her  till  the  stars 
reeled.  She,  with  that  premonition  of  mother-love,  which 
in  pure  girls  antedates  the  connubial,  felt  for  the  first 
time  the  satisfying  power  of  being  able  to  confer  in  her 
own  person  this  great  bliss.  The  effect  of  it  she  witnessed 
wondering,  half  afraid,  yet  trusting  this  great  miracle 
wrought  through  her  simple  self  —  nor  had  she  the  least 
doubt  but  this  was  what  she  was  made  for. 

And  then  came  the  reaction.  All  forms  of  intoxication 
have  their  price. 

On  the  second  night  of  their  great  revelation,  he  asked 
for  her  secrecy.  It  was  not  a  shock  exactly,  but  it  set  her 
thinking. 

She  spoke  hurriedly,  missing  the  nice  connection  between 
his  thought  and  her  own.  If  they  had  drifted  into  any 
thing  that  either  repented  of,  they  could  stop  now.  If  not, 
why  not  speak  to  the  fathers?  In  her  simple  code  any 
course  of  action  on  which  her  father  could  not  be  consulted 
must  be  wrong.  Francis  was  wounded.  He  stuck  to  his 
idea  of  secrecy,  and  she  was  wounded. 

It  was  not  that  he  wanted  to  give  her  up,  but  to  keep 
her  to  himself  and  not  be  held  responsible.  In  this  perfectly 
innocent  boy,  the  sophistry  of  irremediable  evil  had  begun. 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  171 

They  were  both  unhappy,  but  knew  not  why.  They 
passed  a  wretched  day  trying  to  reach  each  other  through 
the  cloud,  each  aware  of  the  longing  the  other  felt,  yet 
helpless  to  bring  back  that  state  of  mind  which  makes 
complete  surrender  possible.  Catherine  would  acknow 
ledge  no  tie  between  them  if  it  involved  concealment  from 
their  parents. 

"  That  which  is  unfinished  is  nothing."  Francis  of 
course  saw  the  next  step  required,  knew  that  he  would  lose 
her  if  he  persisted,  yet  persistence  in  avoiding  exposure 
that  might  lead  to  failure,  perhaps  ridicule,  was  with  him 
ingrained,  an  essential  of  his  nature. 

He  did  not  urge  her  further,  but  a  change  came  over 
him.  He  looked  physically  ill ;  the  delicacy  of  his  type  lent 
itself  to  wanness.  Catherine  suffered  when  she  looked  at 
him,  and  loved  him  more  deeply  than  before. 

At  sunset  of  their  last  day,  the  sloop  tied  up  at  Ron- 
dout  Landing  at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  They  were  to  sup 
and  sleep  at  the  stage-coach  inn  at  Kingston,  a  mile  above, 
and  here  David  Havergal  met  them.  Catherine  held  back 
while  Ann  Havergal,  a  sweet,  impulsive  woman,  ran  for 
ward,  laughing  childishly,  with  both  hands  out  to  her  tall 
son.  Catherine  noted  his  silent,  tender  look  as  he  stooped 
to  kiss  his  mother. 

Francis,  dropping  behind,  had  stolen  her  hand  and 
clasped  it  hard. 

"  Do  you  give  me  up,  then  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  it  was  the  other  way,"  said  Catherine. 
"I  see  nothing  wrong  in  what  we  have  done  ;  and  if  there 
were,  to  whom  should  we  go  for  advice  but  our  parents?'1 

"  You  do  not  know  the  difficulties  on  my  side." 


172  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  I  know  them  on  mine.  Will  time  or  secrecy  make  them 
less?" 

"My  father,  you  know,  is  a  sick  man." 

"  I  ask  only  to  speak  to  my  own  father.  To  you  I  dictate 
nothing:  but  this  is  my  right." 

Persons  in  the  room  ran  forward  with  faces  of  concern. 
David  called  his  brother  to  him  by  name.  There  were  no 
more  greetings.  The  sweet  mother  lay  back  in  David's  arms 
insensible.  Catherine  heard  him  say  to  Francis  quietly :  — 

"Father  died  last  night.  We  thought  it  best  I  should 
prepare  her,  but  she  knew  all  as  soon  as  I  spoke  his  name." 

Perceiving  Catherine,  who  had  been  expected,  and  know 
ing  who  she  was,  he  said :  "  This  is  a  sad  welcome  for 
thee." 

Francis  seemed  dazed,  frozen,  almost  stolid.  David's  eyes 
were  weary,  his  face  drawn  in  lines  of  grief  and  watching. 
He  had  strong,  rugged  Gothic  features,  with  an  expression 
singularly  like  his  mother's,  whose  face  was  small  and  flower- 
like. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

PASSENGERS  by  sloop  from  New  York  would  be  looked 
for  at  points  above  the  Highlands  any  time,  vaguely  speak 
ing,  within  certain  days,  according  to  wind  and  tide.  Hours 
and  moments  were  not  counted.  They  were  provided  with 
patience,  and  in  other  ways  fortified  against  delays ;  and  if 
their  own  friends  did  not  meet  them  as  they  stepped  on 
shore,  neighborly  assistance  was  ready  on  every  hand :  kindly 
curiosity  for  a  new-comer,  and  for  a  native,  returned  after 
so  long  a  voyage,  a  square  mile  or  so  of  welcome  extending 
from  his  home,  which  included  a  lively  conversational  in 
terest  in  all  he  had  heard  and  seen  and  done  in  the  city. 

So,  although  Catherine  had  written  to  her  cousin,  he 
understood  that  she  could  not  fix  the  day  of  her  arrival,  and 
knowing  her  traveling  companions,  no  uneasiness  mingled 
with  his  anticipation. 

Word  of  Jonathan  Havergal's  death  was  brought  by 
David,  on  his  way  to  meet  his  mother,  if  providentially  she 
had  reached  Kingston.  If  not,  he  was  to  leave  a  note  for 
Francis,  to  prepare  her.  He  drove  in  a  two-wheeled  chaise  ; 
a  led-horse  was  hitched  behind  for  Francis.  Part  of  David's 
errand  was  to  inquire  if  Catherine  could  make  the  journey 
on  horseback  also.  They  discussed  details  of  hiring  a  pad 
for  her  at  Kingston,  and  how  to  fetch  the  travelers'  trunks, 
in  the  few  moments  of  David's  halt,  and  the  dominie  pressed 
his  hand  warmly  at  parting. 

The  riders  set  out  an  hour  or  so  before  the  chaise  started : 
for  about  three  o'clock  that  morning,  after  a  sleepless  night, 


174  THE   KOYAL  AMERICANS 

Ann  Havergal  had  dropped  into  a  doze  from  which  Cath 
erine  had  no  heart  to  wake  her.  The  pale,  sweet  face  in 
the  early  light  seemed  quiet  enough  for  one  who  need  never 
be  awakened  again. 

In  silence,  in  the  drowsy  house,  the  three  who  were  up 
breakfasted  while  she  slept.  David  watched  the  younger 
pair  ride  off  together  out  of  the  village. 

Soon  they  had  the  beauty  of  the  morning  woods  around 
them.  Francis  did  not  speak  of  his  father ;  he  answered 
questions.  If  Catherine  made  a  remark  that  called  for  no 
answer,  he  kept  silence.  In  his  grief  there  was  a  gloom, 
almost  a  hardness,  for  which  she  held  herself  responsible, 
and  so  took  back  the  step  by  which  she  had  recoiled  from 
him.  She  advanced  even  farther  to  comfort  and  soften  him 
and  to  make  him  speak. 

"  When  I  refused  what  you  asked  of  me,"  she  said,  "  I 
thought  of  my  father.  But  this  comes  before  anything  — 
If  I  can  be  nothing  to  you  now,  then  I  am  nothing !  Ask 
what  you  will.  I  will  be  silent  till  you  say  I  may  speak.'* 

"  It  is  because  I  had  no  right  to  speak  to  you  that  I 
dread  its  being  known.  I  am  ashamed  that  I  had  not 
strength  to  wait." 

"  I  should  have  misunderstood  your  silence.  We  are 
going  far  away  from  each  other  soon.  There  is  everything 
in  the  world,  as  you  say,  to  part  us.  Nothing  but  knowing 
how  we  felt  toward  each  other  could  keep  us  together." 

"  For  that  reason  I  need  to  be  more  in  myself.  I  have 
not  even  a  home  of  my  own  to  offer  you.  I  do  not  know 
what  may  happen  now.  The  house,  I  suppose,  will  be 
mother's.  Very  likely  nothing  will  be  divided  till  after  she 
is  through  with  it." 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  175 

Such  a  course  of  speculation  could  but  pain  Catherine ; 
yet  she  was  too  overwhelmingly  on  Francis's  side  now  to 
entertain  the  least  thought  that  might  rebuke  him. 

"  There  is  something  that  comes  before  houses,"  she 
said.  "  We  have  that." 

"  But  "  — he  paused,  and  on  a  quick  breath  added,  "I 
want  you,  Catherine.  I  want  you  very  soon  !  " 

He  reached  across  the  space  between  them  for  her  hand. 
r  She  made  her  pony  go  a  little  faster.  She  could  promise 
him  her  love  and  she  could  show  it  by  fulfilling  his  wishes, 
but  she  could  not  yield  to  his  love-making  and  think  of 
that  stark  silence  awaiting  them.  She  knew  nothing  of 
death.  It  had  touched  her  life  before  her  recollection  ;  she 
was  ignorant  of  love,  but  she  was  more  ignorant  of  Francis 
than  of  either.  It  might  have  helped  if  he  had  understood 
himself. 

"  You  will  come  and  see  my  mother  soon  ?  " 

As  he  looked  at  her  after  some  moments'  abstinence,  his 
face  flushed  all  over,  a  dark  rose.  Her  own  blood  re 
sponded,  but  she  hated  the  blush  that  mingled  its  tingling 
tremor  with  the  thought  of  that  poor  mother  in  her  patient 
grief. 

She  turned  and  looked  at  him  again,  long  and  steadily, 
with  her  soul,  and  thought  that  she  saw  his.  Perhaps  she 
did.  She  saw  at  all  events  a  beautiful,  hard,  despondent 
young  face,  destined  to  haunt  her  thoughts  for  years  to 
come. 

"  Do  you  know  yet  the  day  of  the  funeral  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  It  will  be  —  Thursday,"  he  said,  with  an  effort  at  the 
pagan  name  which  probably  no  one  of  his  family  for  two 
generations  had  ever  used.  "  Could  you  come  to-morrow  ?  " 


176  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

"  No ;  if  I  am  to  keep  our  secret.  My  cousin  would  not 
understand  my  going  the  first  day  —  nor  would  your 
mother.  She  will  need  to  be  alone  with  her  children." 

"  I  could  almost  ask  you  not  to  come  to  the  burial !  Our 
customs  are  very  meagre.  There  is  no  service  ;  I  think  it 
would  shock  you." 

"  Then  there  would  be  something  very  poor  in  me !  I 
shall  not  come  though,  because  my  cousin  will  not  expect 
me  to.  But  I  shall  be  in  the  burying-ground  early  in  the 
morning,  to  dress  the  grave." 

"  To  —  dress  the  grave  !  " 

"  Would  your  mother  mind  if  I  lined  it  with  oak-leaves  ? 
Young  oak-leaves  and  roses  ?  To  cover  the  raw  earth  ?  " 

"  Not  perhaps  roses.  My  father  has  never  lain  on  a  bed 
of  roses." 

"  I  will  take  them  to  your  mother  then.  She  will  under 
stand." 

"  Do  you  know  quite  well  the  way  to  come?  " 

"  I  shall  inquire  ;  but  I  think  I  remember.  There  is  a 
great  chestnut  tree  that  sends  out  one  long  arm  towards 
the  west.  The  greatest  tree  in  the  township,  cousin  says. 
Bassy  Dunbar  and  I  tried,  touching  hands,  how  far  we 
could  reach  around  it :  we  could  not  reach  half-way !  " 

"  Bassy  Dunbar !  Isaac's  son  ?  Did  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  Does  it  surprise  you  ?  " 

"  I  should  not  have  placed  him  in  the  same  class  with 
your  people." 

"  We  went  to  the  same  school,  one  year.  Did  you  not  go 
to  any  school,  Francis  ?  " 

"  We  did  nothing  like  other  people  — not  even  like  the 
Friends.  However,  we  were  taught  somehow.  My  mother's 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  177 

sister  was  our  first  teacher,  before  I  can  remember.  She 
married  and  Cousin  Emmeline  came  to  live  with  us,  who 
married  Edwin.  David  and  I  were  taught  by  another  cousin, 
Justus,  from  Long  Island,  a  wheelwright.  He  lived  with 
us  four  years  or  so,  and  helped  father  build  the  mill.  He 
had  ability  in  many  ways.  I  think  he  knew  more  of  books 
than  most  schoolmasters." 

"  You  speak  so  very  well,  both  you  and  David.  I  thought 
great  pains  must  have  been  taken  with  your  school- 
ing." 

"  We  speak,  I  suppose,  as  we  heard  those  about  us.  We 
are  not,  as  a  family,  illiterate." 

"When  was  it  you  knew  that  boy?"  he  recurred  pre 
sently  to  Bassy.  "  You  would  have  been  quite  a  child  ?  " 

"  About  the  age  I  was  when  I  first  saw  you." 

"  And  he  ?  Much  older,  was  he  not  ?  " 

"  I  dare  say  he  may  have  been  not  over  fourteen.  To  me 
he  seemed  quite  grown  up.  He  was  tall  of  his  age,  I  be 
lieve." 

"  Have  you  ever  happened  on  each  other  since  ?  —  I  sup 
pose  not." 

Catherine  did  not  contradict  him.  Then  she  said,  "  I 
may  have  seen  him  since ;  I  am  not  quite  sure." 

Francis  looked  at  her  uneasily. 

"  I  saw  a  young  man  in  the  city  on  the  street  —  that 
Sunday  you  say  you  saw  me  in  meeting.  Mercy  and  I  were 
late  going  home.  I  told  your  mother  about  it,  don't  you 
remember  ?  Perhaps  you  were  n't  listening." 

"  I  ?  you  never  spoke  that  I  did  not  listen." 

"You  sat  off  against  the  rail.  I  thought  you  were 
reading." 


178  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  I  heard  every  word.  And  that  person  you  think  was 
Basset  Dunbar?" 

"  I  am  not  sure.  Yes,  I  am  sure.  I  don't  know  why  I 
said  that,  as  if  I  were  on  the  witness-stand ! " 

"  Did  he  recognize  you  ?  " 

"  Ye-yes,  I  almost  think  he  did.  Well,  I  may  say  I  am 
sure  he  did." 

"  And  did  not  speak  to  you  ?  " 

"  Would  you  have  spoken  to  me  then,  in  his  place  — 
after  eight  years  ?  And  Colonel  Dunstable  had  just  insulted 
him  before  me !  " 

"  That  was  not  his  reason,  however,"  said  Francis.  "  If 
I  am  to  put  myself  in  his  place,  I  should  give  a  quite  dif 
ferent  reason." 

"  What  would  you  say  it  was,  then  ?  " 

Here  the  riders  in  single  file  splashed  through  a  piece 
of  water.  The  horses,  frisking  after  a  long  drink,  chased 
each  other  up  a  smart  rise  leading  out  of  the  hollow. 

As  Catherine's  pony  came  alongside,  she  smiled  at 
Francis. 

"  You  were  going  to  say  ?  "  after  a  pause  adding,  "  about 
Bassy  Dunbar  and  his  reasons  for  not  knowing  me  before 
folk." 

"  Oh,"  said  Francis  coldly,  "  I  know  nothing  of  the  sort 
of  person  he  is,  hence  nothing  of  his  reasons." 

"  But  we  were  putting  you  in  his  place." 

"  Or  him  in  mine  ?  If  I  were  to  see  you  again  after  eight 
years,  I  should  not  waste  the  first  moment  of  our  actual 
meeting  with  outsiders  looking  on." 

"  Bassy  does  not  feel  that  way  about  me.  I  was  a  little 
bit  of  a  nuisance  tagging  him  around  the  playground,  run- 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  179 

ning  after  him  through  the  woods.  I  obeyed  him  like  a 
little  dog." 

"  I  remember  you,"  said  Francis  briefly. 

"You  remember  me  !  You  !  /remember  you  were  par 
ticularly  nasty  to  me  about  Melissa :  you  wanted  anything 
rather  than  I  should  have  her." 

"  Very  likely :  I  was  nasty  whenever  there  was  a  chance 
to  be,  at  that  age.  But  I  remembered  you  all  the  same. 
And  when  I  *aw  you  I  was  not  surprised." 

"At  what?" 

"  At  what  I  saw,"  said  Francis,  with  a  shy,  glowing  look. 
In  a  little  while  he  said  pleadingly  :  "  Catherine,  are  you 
mine  still  ?  You  have  not  taken  yourself  back  from  me 
since  night  before  last  ?  " 

"  I  never  took  myself  back.  Only,  when  you  asked  for 
secrecy,  1  thought "  — 

"  But  you  do  not  think  so  now  !  " 

"  Yes  I  do.  My  thought  is  unchanged.  But  I  do  not  know 
any  better  than  to  feel  like  this :  If  those  we  love  are  in 
trouble,  we  must  go  all  the  way  to  help  them  at  once !  We 
must  not  stop  and  say  '  for  this  reason  or  that,  I  am  unable 
to  be  kind  to-day.  To-morrow,  perhaps,  I  may  be.' " 

"  Then  be  kind  !  Do  be  kind  to  me,"  he  whispered.  "  You 
have  not  let  me  kiss  you  once  since  —  " 

"  Francis,  I  will  not  let  you  kiss  me  while  your  father  — 
Oh,  but  I  will  kiss  you,  my  dear,  my  poor,  poor  boy !  " 

The  glistening,  flickering  woods  swept  by  them.  The 
trees  met  over  their  heads,  leaned,  and  stroked  them  lightly, 
with  young  leaf-touches.  This  was  Nature's  hour,  and  they 
were  Nature's  lovers. 

"  But  to-morrow,  when  I  come  to  see  your  mother,"  — 


180  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

said  Catherine.  "  Do  not  make  me  seem  double  to  myself. 
Be  Francis  Havergal  to  Catherine  Yelverton  who  comes  to 
kiss  your  mother's  hand  and  lay  her  roses  at  the  feet  of  a 
sorrow  more  sacred  than  any  happiness,  for  you  and  me. 
You  will  promise  me  this  ?  You  will  be  this  —  to  me,  for 
her  sake !  Why  do  I  say  it !  Oh,  forgive  me  !  " 

"  You  are  the  soul  of  my  life ;  the  soul  of  my  soul !  "  said 
Francis.  "You  are  doubled  and  twisted  through  and  through 
every  part  of  me.  I  can  think  of  nothing  else.  I  don't  know 
whether  it  is  happiness ;  it  is  you !  One  reason  I  would  not 
have  you  at  my  father's  burial  —  If  I  saw  you  beside  his 
grave,  I  might  forget  —  " 

"  Oh,  hush,  hush  !  "  said  Catherine.  —  "  But  I  love  you." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THERE  were  two  gates  entering  the  acre  known  as  the 
Friends'  burying-ground :  one,  a  small  gate  on  the  public 
road,  seldom  used ;  the  second,  a  double  gate  to  admit 
wagons,  opening  into  the  lane  or  pent-road  that  led  from 
Jonathan  Havergal's  homestead  up  through  the  heart  of 
his  land. 

Only  one  grave,  at  the  time  we  write  of,  sanctified  this 
spot.  Ann  Havergal,  though  called  delicate  and  never  able 
to  "do  her  own  work,"  had  borne  healthy  children,  and 
raised  them  all  but  one,  the  little  girl  taken  from  her  in 
infancy. 

According  to  the  grim  humility  of  the  early  Friends,  no 
stone  marked  this  little  seed  of  mortality,  but  the  parents 
knew  the  place.  Their  own  graves  would  come  next :  sons 
and  sons'  wives  and  children  would  follow,  till  the  spot  they 
had  set  apart  in  their  young  days  of  married  happiness 
should  contain  the  generations  of  their  dead. 

The  sterile  loneliness  of  years  was  now  broken  by  a 
second,  a  mighty  grave,  with  its  accompanying  mound  of 
fresh  earth  beside  it,  looking  at  a  distance  like  the  grave 
itself.  Close  to  this  deceptive  pile,  and  half  hid  by  it,  a 
wooden  stake  was  driven  into  the  ground.  Near  its  top  a 
space  had  been  planed  for  the  incision  of  certain  letters ; 
these  marks  appeared  to  be  quite  fresh. 

Francis,  coming  early  to  the  place  of  meeting  and  ex 
pecting  Catherine  by  the  road-gate,  had  gone  around  to 
meet  her  there.  He  glanced  across  the  wall  and  saw  she 


182  THE  EOYAL  AMERICANS 

was  not  inside,  but  a  man  stood  by  his  father's  open  grave 
on  the  rise  of  ground  it  occupied,  conspicuous  from  the 
road.  Still  higher  was  the  double  gate,  amidst  trees  that 
led  into  the  lane. 

Francis  watched  the  stranger  with  keen  annoyance  and 
distrust.  There  was  reason  enough  for  the  sense  of  intru 
sion,  this  being  strictly  private  ground.  The  distrust  came 
from  a  vague  connection  of  ideas  with  the  heirs  of  the 
Greathead  property,  who,  David  had  told  him,  were  already 
causing  surveys  to  be  made  on  the  basis  of  their  claims, 
which  extended  over  parts  of  his  father's  land.  Could  they 
have  come  in  here  without  a  word  to  the  family  ? 

Francis  walked  on  past  a  row  of  trees,  losing  sight  of 
the  stranger  across  the  wall.  It  took  him  violently  by  sur 
prise,  therefore,  as  he  reached  the  gate,  to  see  Catherine 
walking  down  the  slope  with  him,  as  if  he  had  gone  to  meet 
her.  She  had  come  by  the  upper  gate  of  the  lane. 

She  was  talking  with  this  man  as  if  she  knew  him ;  if 
not,  no  time,  it  was  evident,  had  been  lost  between  them 
in  making  acquaintance.  He  had  taken  from  her  a  basket 
covered  with  a  white  cloth  which  she  removed  as  they 
reached  the  shade. 

Francis  knew  what  the  basket  contained,  but  he  had  been 
far  from  expecting  a  stranger  would  carry  it  for  her,  he 
looking  on,  to  his  father's  grave.  It  could  not  be  one  of 
the  heirs ;  she  had  never  seen  those  men.  This  person  she 
must  have  known  and  known  well,  before.  Of  that  he  was 
convinced  by  the  fatal  insight  of  jealousy.  With  a  little 
more  confidence  in  his  own  manner  and  in  Catherine  as  a 
dissembler,  he  might  have  gone  forward  and  greeted  her, 
and  settled  the  question  of  her  companion  and  his  business 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  183 

there.  But  he  was  not  himself  in  any  respect  that  morning. 
As  for  Catherine,  her  face  was  an  open  book.  The  stranger 
would  know  by  the  first  look  between  them  that  their  meet 
ing  was  a  tryst.  He  himself  could  not  meet  her  eyes  after 
absence,  however  brief,  and  retain  composure.  The  thirst  he 
had  come  to  satisfy  must  be  borne  a  little  longer.  It  had 
burned  in  him  through  the  night,  but  he  must  wait  and  see 
a  stranger  drink  her  looks,  and  gather  these  short  moments 
that  were  his. 

He  walked  back  by  the  road  to  where  the  lane  struck 
off  from  it  through  the  fields.  Here  the  perspective  com 
manded  both  gates :  when  he  could  see  by  which  one  the 
stranger  left  the  yard,  his  plan  was  to  enter  by  the  other. 

In  the  burying-ground,  Catherine  and  Bassy  Dunbar 
stood  beside  the  open  trench,  six  feet  four  in  length,  to 
hold  a  man  of  majestic  stature. 

"  I  do  not  see  the  little  grave,  do  you  ?  "  she  said.  "  It 
should  be  here  quite  close  :  I  mean  the  grave  of  the  little 
child  they  lost.  I  wonder  if  it  could  be  this  ?  " 

Catherine  stooped  and  put  away  the  wild-onion  stalks 
and  ground-ivy  from  a  short  low  mound  of  blue  violets, 
still  in  blossom  in  this  cool,  protected  spot. 

"  These  are  not  wild  violets,"  she  said.  "  Smell  the  per 
fume  !  I  think  this  must  be  it." 

"  Yes,  the  mother  has  marked  it,"  said  Bassy. 

"  But  how  very  close  together  they  are !  There  is  no 
room  for  another  grave  between." 

"Should  there  be?" 

"  Why,  yes.  That  dear  Ann  Havergal  has  set  her  heart, 
I  know,  on  lying  between  them  —  the  baby  on  her  right 
hand." 


184  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  There  is  room  on  the  other  side." 

"  That  would  part  her  from  her  husband.  I  am  sure 
there  has  been  a  mistake,  for  I  heard  her  speaking  to 
David  about  it.  Who  do  you  suppose  dug  the  grave  ?  " 

"  One  of  the  hired  men,  very  likely.  There  is  no  regular 
Meeting  here,  so  I  suppose  there  can  be  no  gravedigger. 
They  do  all  things  amongst  themselves." 

"  Oh,  what  a  pity!  I  am  sure  it  will  break  her  heart." 

"  When  will  the  burial  be,  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  At  two  o'clock  this  afternoon.  I  had  thought  Francis 
Havergal  would  be  here  this  morning.  I  was  looking  for 
him.  He  knew  I  was  coming,"  said  Catherine  simply, 
meeting  Bassy's  eyes,  "  to  fetch  these  for  the  grave,  and 
to  see  his  mother.  You  know  I  came  up  with  them  from 
New  York." 

This  was  duplicity,  but  she  was  rather  proud  of  it  as  a 
first  effort  for  Francis's  sake.  She  knelt  on  the  brink  of 
the  grave  and  let  her  green  sprays  fall  lightly  on  the  earth 
floor,  dark  and  fresh,  showing  glistening  marks  of  the 
spade. 

"  I  would  not  do  that  yet,  would  you  ?  "  Bassy  objected 
gently.  He  crouched  down  beside  her.  "  If  such  a  mistake 
has  been  made,  it  can  be  set  right.  There  is  plenty  of 
time." 

Catherine  seated  herself  on  the  ground  and  pushed  back 
her  hat  to  look  at  him.  He  did  not  look  at  her,  but  went 
on  speaking  gravely,  breaking  lumps  of  earth  with  his 
fingers,  and  watching  it  fall  as  he  sifted  it  between  them. 

"All  this  pile  could  be  put  back  again  and  a  fresh 
grave  dug  where  it  lies  now." 

"  Would  not  that  be  distressing  to  them.  I  don't  know 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  185 

what  there  is  about  a  grave,  once  it  is  dug,  but  it  seems 
already  his  ;  as  if  he  lay  there,  and  —  " 

"  They  need  not  know  it,"  Bassy  returned  as  her  ex 
planation  died  away  feebly,  "  some  trampling  and  loose 
earth  scattered,  there  would  be  naturally.  I  do  not  feel 
the  desecration  you  speak  of.  If  I  did  —  if  I  were  one  of 
the  sons,  even,  I  should  put  aside  a  fancy  such  as  that, 
rather  than  rob  the  mother  of  her  wish.  I  should  think  it 
a  very  innocent  deception." 

"But  who  could  do  it  without  their  knowing?" 

Bassy  did  not  answer. 

"  I  can  see,"  he  said  at  length,  "  how  the  mistake  came 
to  be  made.  The  man  was  sent  here  with  his  directions. 
But  he  found  this  stake  planted  where  the  grave  should 
have  been,  and  did  not  venture  to  move  it.  You  see,  it  is 
a  surveyor's  corner-post.  He  thought  a  few  feet  this  way 
would  make  no  difference." 

.  "  But  what   is   it   for  ?     Why  a   surveyor's   post   in 
here?" 

"  The  heirs  presumptive  of  the  Greathead  estate  insist, 
I  believe,  through  their  lawyers,  that  one  of  their  corners 
belongs,  I  suppose,  just  here.  For  my  part  I  venture  to 
pull  it  up." 

He  did  so  and  tossed  it  aside.  On  second  thoughts, 
apparently,  he  picked  it  up  and  laid  it  in  the  grave.  Cath 
erine  noticed  he  did  not  toss  it  in.  The  "  fancy,"  as  he 
called  it,  apparently  had  some  weight  with  him  too.  Or 
did  his  action  refer  to  her  feeling  in  the  matter  ? 

With  a  new  acquaintance,  still  more  an  old  friend  just 
recovered,  one  speculates  on  such  trifles,  at  Catherine's  age. 
Every  new  person  and  new  incident  counts  for  so  much  in 


186  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

an  experience  that  is  all  future.  Catherine  was  measuring 
the  young  man  beside  her,  word  by  word  and  look  by 
look ;  a  much  more  subtle  examination  than  he  stood  at 
their  first  violent  meeting.  A  hundred  young  men  might 
have  played  his  part  in  that  scene  ;  this  was  the  searching 
analysis.  What  she  did  not  attempt  to  measure  was  her 
own  satisfaction,  as  the  nature  of  the  friend  she  had  lost 
and  remembered  so  loyally  responded  as  of  old :  strong, 
and  though  decided  yet  tender  to  those  who  hesitate; 
straightforward,  yet  not  ruthless. 

What  she  could  not  fathom  was  his  business  there  at  all ; 
and  a  certain  intensity  of  interest,  which  he  did  not  con 
ceal,  in  the  location  of  Jonathan  Havergal's  last  resting- 
place.  She  could  not  be  mistaken :  he  was  more  than  sym 
pathetic  in  the  matter  of  the  change ;  he  was  singularly 
determined. 

"  There,  let  the  law  find  it  and  take  care  of  it ! "  He 
looked  down  at  the  stake  as  it  lay  in  the  grave.  "  It  marks 
a  claim  that  is  not  established  yet  by  a  long  shot !  It  is  an 
outrage  to  run  their  lines  in  here,  with  Jonathan  Havergal 
on  his  deathbed,  and  rob  him  of  his  grave.  It  would  be 
strange  if  those  two  persons,  the  salt  of  the  earth,  who 
made  a  home  here  with  their  own  hands,  —  if  they  may  not 
choose  on  this  land  where  they  shall  lie !  Let  the  law  be 
an  abomination  if  it  chooses.  There  is  no  law  of  any 
Christian  neighborhood  that  would  defend  such  an  outrage 
as  this ! " 

Catherine  took  a  deep  breath,  but  she  did  not  interrupt 
him. 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  of  the  spot?  Will  you  point  it  out 
exactly?  Where  she  wished  him  to  lie?" 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  1ST 

She  looked  at  him  in  surprise.  "  Would  you  not  speak 
of  it  to  the  sons  first?" 

"  I  am  not  acquainted  with  the  sons.  And  time  goes  by. 
When  the  family  gather  here,  the  mother  shall  see  her 
wish  fulfilled.  Is  not  that  the  main  thing?  To  be  honest, 
I  intend  to  do  the  work  myself." 

Bassy's  face  had  gathered  color.  He  felt,  it  was  evident, 
the  shock  of  this  amazing  climax,  but  he  left  it  with  the 
bare  statement,  passing  on  to  say,  "  Will  you  be  here  this 
afternoon  ?  " 

"  No,  but  my  cousin  will  —  I  suppose,"  Catherine  an 
swered  absently. 

"  There  will  be  a  thunderstorm  some  time  this  after 
noon.  I  hope  it  won't  strike  them  in  the  yard  here." 

Catherine  did  not  ask  how  he  knew  there  would  be  a 
storm ;  she  listened  to  him  with  fixed  attention,  as  she  used 
to  when  they  were  children,  glad  of  his  initiative,  yet  a 
trifle  alarmed. 

"  Do  you  not  intend  the  sons  to  know  of  this  kind 
act?" 

"  I  am  not  doing  it  for  the  sons,"  said  Bassy,  "  and  if  I 
know  how  a  man  feels  about  such  things,  they  will  not  care 
to  thank  a  stranger  for  doing  it.  My  reasons  they  will  learn 
in  time.  Your  cousin,  you  are  quite  sure,  will  be  at  the 
burial?  You  can  tell  him  there  will  be  a  storm." 

"  I  think  it  would  not  keep  him  from  coming.  Shall  I 
say  that  Bassy  Dunbar  —  "  she  smiled  though  she  was  puz 
zled. 

He  turned  on  her  the  full  force  of  his  strong  regard. 
"  I  shall  see  you  this  afternoon,"  he  interrupted,  "  and  then 
I'll  tell  you  what  to  say.  Meantime,  I  beg  you  to  say 


188  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

nothing.  I  ain  unable  to  explain  just  now  why  it  is  impor 
tant,  but  it  is,  that  what  I  propose  to  do  here  be  not  known. 
It  shortly  will  be,  and  the  responsibility  I  shall  take,  of 
course,  on  myself.  —  Thank  you." 

"Why  thank  me!" 

"  Because  I  know  you  will  do  as  I  ask.  You  always  did 
when  you  were  a  little  girl.  I  know  much  better  what  I 
am  about  than  I  did  then !  I  was  horribly  in  the  dark, 
about  many  things." 

"  There  seems  to  be  a  great  deal  to  be  in  the  dark  about," 
said  Catherine,  helplessly.  "  What  shall  I  do  with  my 
leaves?" 

"  Could  you  come  back,  in  about  —  well  —  " 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  I  fear  I  could  not." 

"  Then  will  you  trust  me  to  lay  them  in  ?  They  will 
keep  fresh  here  in  the  shade.  I  don't  fancy  that  any  ques 
tions  will  be  asked  for  a  few  days."  They  were  separating 
the  roses  from  the  oak-sprays,  Catherine  passing  the  latter 
to  Bassy  to  lay  in  a  careful  pile.  "  But  the  man  who  dug 
this  grave  will  see,  of  course,  it  has  been  moved.  By  that 
time  I  shall  —  well,  at  least,  I  shall  ask  no  longer  for 
your  silence.  I  hate  a  secret,  don't  you  ?  This  is  not  a 
secret,  it  is  a  precaution  —  a  necessary  precaution,  for  the 
sake  of  doing  something  that  —  that  must  be  done  !  There 
is  no  other  way." 

They  did  not  speak  again.  He  appeared  to  be  thinking ; 
and  Catherine  had  a  difficult  morning  before  her,  and  had 
just  unfitted  herself  for  the  part  of  frankness  that  to  her 
was  second  nature,  by  discussing  this  intimate  family  matter 
with  one  who  was  a  stranger  to  the  family,  and  conspiring 
with  him  to  keep  it  a  secret.  Yet  she  had  the  same  trust 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  189 

in  his  action,  strange  as  it  appeared,  and  felt  the  same  con 
fidence  in  the  outcome  as  when  she  was  a  child,  and  Bassy 
walked  before  her  and  she  had  followed  on  some  untried 
way. 

They  must  have  been  talking  together  there  for  half  an 
hour  ;  longer  than  that  it  seemed  to  Francis,  before  he  saw 
Catherine  emerge  by  the  upper  gate  and  her  companion 
put  her  on  her  pony  and  tie  her  pannier  of  roses  on  the 
saddle.  Apparently  she  had  made  some  other  proposition 
about  the  roses,  perhaps  to  hold  the  basket  with  one  hand. 
But  he  had  smiled  in  silence  and  carried  his  point. 

It  was  the  smallest  of  incidents.  Francis  could  not  have 
witnessed  it  understandingly  if  he  had  not  come  up  the  lane 
to  meet  Catherine ;  but  it  was  one  of  those  little  tableaux, 
enacted  by  the  girl  one  loves  in  conjunction  with  another 
man,  to  drive  a  lovesick  boy  half  mad. 

It  undoubtedly  upset  Francis  to  that  degree  that  from 
the  first  moment  he  hardly  knew  what  he  was  saying. 
And  the  kiss  he  had  dreamed  of  all  night,  he  was  too  sick 
and  shaken  to  ask  for. 

Catherine  thought  it  strange  he  did  not  explain  his 
failure  to  keep  their  tryst.  She  had  not  thought  of  re 
senting  it,  but  surely  it  was  strange  he  appeared  to  have 
forgotten  there  was  one.  In  such  grief  one  might  forget 
almost  anything  save  to  be  kind  to  those  we  still  have 
left  to  love.  Francis  was  not  even  kind.  She  bore  with 
him,  and  he  walked  on  in  silence  at  Melissa's  side. 

"  Is  there  any  reason  why  you  should  not  say  who  was 
with  you  in  the  burying-ground  ?  " 

The  question  was  a  shock,  implying  that  he  had  seen 
her  and  kept  away. 


190  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  Why,"  she  said,  "  it  was  Bassy  Dunbar,  of  course  ! " 

"  Why  «  of  course  ?  '  " 

"I  don't  know  why — I  don't  know  in  the  least  why 
I  said  '  of  course  — '  " 

"  Neither  do  I." 

'« —  except  that  you  confused  me.  If  you  saw  me  there, 
why  did  n't  you  come  in  ?  I  was  expecting  you !  " 

"  I  did  not  come  to  this  place  to  talk  to  strangers." 

"  Nor  I,  Francis.  But  you  were  not  there." 

"  I  was  there  before  you  came.  I  saw  you  come." 

"  Then  why  did  you  stay  outside  to  watch  me !  Bassy 
Dunbar  is  not  a  stranger  to  me.  It  was  he  who  met  me. 
What  would  you  have  had  me  do  ?  " 

"  You  knew  him  this  time,  it  seems." 

"  Of  course  I  knew  him,  and  he  spoke  to  me.  Should  I 
have  passed  him  by  in  silence  ?  " 

"  You  did  not  pass  him  by.  I  do  not  know  what  is  nat 
ural  in  a  woman."  Poor  little  Catherine !  yet  Francis  was 
but  twenty-two.  "  In  a  man  it  would  be  natural  to  have 
spoken  of  this  meeting.  One  might  even  go  so  far  with  a 
friend  —  as  to  say  what  held  you  there  in  talk  this  hour 
past ! " 

"  If  this  were  not  the  day  of  your  father's  funeral,  my 
poor  Francis,  I  would  turn  Melissa's  head  and  go  straight 
home.  I  believe  I  must  go !  Here  are  the  roses.  Will  you 
take  them  to  —  " 

She  could  not  finish.  The  words  "your  mother"  were 
too  much.  In  a  moment  she  was  sobbing  on  his  neck,  with 
his  arms  around  her.  They  were  saved,  for  that  time!  Na 
ture's  lovers  are  not  always  happy  lovers. 

It  would  have  taken  the  wisdom  of  a  mother  to  explain 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  191 

even  to  Catherine  herself  how  far  back  amidst  the  sources 
of  tears  at  seventeen  that  burst  of  weeping  had  begun  to 
head  up.  The  girl  had  been  on  a  keen  strain  for  many 
weeks.  Back  of  that,  for  years,  lay  the  long  exhaustion  of 
a  child  trying  to  "  get  on  "  with  duty  caretakers  after  the 
simple  freedom  of  living  with  those  she  loved.  Since  the 
"  unhappy  differences  "  between  the  motherland  and  her 
colonies  in  America  began,  the  little  American  in  England, 
bewildered  by  her  family's  past  and  confused  by  jarring 
obligations  past  and  present,  had  seen  her  friends  insulted 
and  her  idols  thrown  down. 

Her  faithful  Joanna  she  heard  spoken  of  as  a  meddle 
some  Scotch  person,  and  saw  her  sent  away  into  Perthshire 
to  her  relatives  (and  glad  they  were  to  get  her  and  the 
help  of  her  savings  and  the  pension  Catherine's  father 
thrust  upon  her ;  for  her  sister's  "  man,"  a  sergeant  in  the 
42d,  had  been  killed  at  Bushy  Run,  and  the  widow  had 
seven  children  to  fend  for).  Her  guardian  and  best  friend, 
that  broad  and  sensitive  mind,  was  "  the  dissenting  par 
son."  Madam  Schuyler  herself,  and  all  her  distinguished 
connection,  empire-makers,  statesmen,  lovely  girls,  and 
notable  women,  were  "  those  Dutch  people  in  Albany." 

So  it  went,  the  slighting  word,  the  chilling  stare  when 
ever  America  was  the  topic.  The  little  heart  so  wounded, 
not  to  be  broken  utterly  must  steel  itself ;  but  it  is  an  un 
natural  strength  in  childhood  that  resists  the  influences  of 
home.  Three  years  of  boarding-school  eased  the  strain, 
brought  health,  and  the  delight  of  travel  and  change  and 
family  visits  during  vacation  with  her  father's  people,  a 
worldly,  careless,  but  sweeter-hearted  gens.  Beauty  came 
and  laid  its  golden  key  in  her  hand,  and  whispered,  "  There 


192      '       THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

are  many  doors  "  ;  but  the  little  heart,  so  tired  and  so  early- 
wise,  said,  "  There  is  bat  one  !  " 

Then  came  Stephen's  violent  wooing,  a  veritable  lion  in 
her  path,  and  in  her  longing  to  escape  she  had  involved 
herself  in  plans  and  intrigues  foreign  to  her  nature.  She 
had  put  herself  in  the  power  of  strangers ;  and  never  in 
her  life  was  she  able  to  describe  the  horror  of  those  days 
at  Portsmouth. 

Breaking  out  of  the  brief  peace  of  the  home-voyage,  and 
her  visit  with  the  dear,  quaint  Friends,  blooms  this  sud 
den,  transcendent  flower  of  love.  Is  not  this  the  right  door? 
Yet  here  too  is  the  awakening  to  what  such  bliss  must  cost. 
Could  she  afford  the  price  ?  A  motherless  daughter  to  keep 
this,  of  all  secrets,  from  a  father  who  was  mother  and 
father  in  one  !  How  had  she  managed  to  wind  herself  into 
such  a  snare  !  She  had  not  the  shadow  of  a  doubt  that 
she  had  found  the  right  door  !  only  there  should  have  been 
some  other  way  to  enter  and  possess  her  happiness. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE  dominie  cast  his  weather-eye  up  at  the  clouds.  If 
he  did  not  see  Bassy's  thunderstorm,  he  gathered  premoni 
tions  of  his  own,  acting  on  which  he  rolled  up  his  old  blue 
Camelot  cloak  and  stowed  it  under  the  seat  of  the  chaise. 

Catherine  sat  between  the  rose-bushes  that  flanked  the 
front  steps,  and  watched  him  drive  down  the  lane.  She 
had  observed  on  her  first  return  that  her  old  miseries,  the 
round-cobbles,  had  been  replaced  by  handsome  flagging- 
stones  of  Ulster  slate,  and  regretted  the  change  as  so 
much  taken  from  the  sum  of  each  separate  joy  of  recollec 
tion.  She  would  have  welcomed  the  sensation  of  feeling 
them  slip  under  the  hollows  of  her  feet  once  more. 

Job  came  with  his  pail  from  the  stable  to  scrub  the 
stones.  She  warned  him  they  would  soon  be  washed  with 
rain ;  but  he  went  on  with  his  task  according  to  routine. 

Already  the  wind  was  breathing  hard  in  long  sighs  of 
the  coming  gale.  The  cherry  trees  caught  the  first  motion 
of  it,  and  began  to  throw  themselves  heavily  about.  The 
rose-bushes  quivered  and  a  storm  of  petals  flew,  scattered 
by  a  sharp,  rattling  screech  of  wind  that  burst  round  the 
corner  of  the  house.  A  column  of  dust  rolled  up  the  lane, 
blown  ahead  of  a  galloping  horse.  Catherine  saw  horse  and 
rider  dash  past  in  the  direction  of  the  barn.  Within  the 
house  Gulie  and  a  young  mulatto  girl  she  had  added  to 
herself  as  assistant  scurried  from  room  to  room,  pulling 
shutters  to  that  resisted  and  slammed  back  against  the 
house.  Sashes  stuck  and  were  forced  down  with  a  clatter. 


194  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

Catherine  bethought  her  of  the  cousin's  study  and  ran 
in,  but,  wise  man,  his  papers  were  secure,  the  desk  closed, 
the  window  sash  let  down  to  within  the  width  of  a  wooden 
ruler  inserted  to  admit  the  air.  She  looked  out  anxiously, 
thinking  of  the  good  man  in  the  storm.  He  would  be  meet 
ing  it  now  at  the  outset  of  a  long  drive  straight  in  the 
teeth  of  it,  unless  the  wind  changed.  He  would  reach  the 
Havergals'  wet  and  chilled,  on  an  occasion  when  his  own 
comfort  would  be  the  last  thought  he  had.  She  feared  for 
him  the  consequences  of  this  tribute,  which  nothing  could 
have  induced  him  to  forego,  in  memory  of  the  old  neighbor 
and  the  friend  of  many  differences. 

Rain  was  beginning  to  pelt  the  window-panes  in  slanting 
drops.  The  sweeping  sheets  let  down  from  the  sky  would 
darken  soon  the  room.  She  ran  up  to  the  foot  of  the  gar 
ret  stairs,  and  stood  holding  the  door  and  listening  for 
the  first  tramp  of  the  legions  on  the  roof.  That  splendid 
uproar!  she  remembered  it  since  childhood,  standing  so  to 
hear  it  come. 

The  garret  for  one  instant  was  illumined  with  a  green, 
a  corpse-like  glare.  Bang !  the  opening  gun.  A  shattering 
volley  of  thunder  rolled  off  down  the  horizon. 

"  4  Multitudes,  multitudes  in  the  Valley  of  Decision.'  " 
Who  were  they,  the  echoes,  —  voices  muttering  in  dispute? 
Some  excitement  in  her  blood  made  her  shiver.  It  meant 
more  to  her  somehow  than  thunder  and  lightning  and  rain. 
A  hush  —  still  those  muttering  thousands.  What  were 
they  saying  over  there  in  the  valley? 

"  Oh,  come  on !  Come,  louder !   Let  it  begin  !  " 

The  garret  blinked  as  if  in  fear.  Bang !  once  more.  And 
then  long  sighings  and  wailings  down  the  wind.  Flocks 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  195 

of  leaves  torn  from  the  smitten  trees  drove  before  the 
gale  like  a  frightened  little  people  scattered  from  their 
homes. 

Who  was  that  knocking  at  the  front  door?  The  old 
Dutch  hammer,  with  its  realistic  fist  in  a  brazen  gauntlet, 
fell  upon  the  shield  with  one  loud  clap.  The  door  was 
thrown  open.  Whoever  asked  admittance  came  in  haste, 
and  took  for  granted  his  reception.  Rain  and  wind  entered 
with  him,  sweeping  him  before  them.  They  made  mirth 
with  him,  blew  his  hat  from  his  head,  and  puffed  it  along 
the  hall. 

Catherine,  looking  over  the  banister,  saw  this  boisterous 
entrance,  and  ran  down  laughing.  It  was  Bassy,  drenched 
to  the  skin  ;  he  and  his  storm  arrived  together. 

She  stepped  before  him  into  the  study,  while  he  paused 
on  the  threshold  and  dripped. 

"  I  wish  you  had  brought  back  my  cousin.  I  suppose  you 
didn't  meet  him?" 

"  No  ;  when  did  he  start  ?  " 

"  Not  half  an  hour  ago." 

"  It  has  come  sooner  than  I  expected.  I  am  afraid  he  '11 
get  a  drenching." 

"  Just  the  same,  he  would  have  gone.  Do  come  in !  — 
or  will  you  step  into  cousin's  room  and  change  ?  This  is 
the  door." 

"  I  will  go  outside  and  shake  myself." 

As  he  came  back,  she  called  to  him  from  the  window 
exultingly :  — 

"  There  is  nothing  like  this  in  England  !  " 

He  did  not  answer  till  he  stood  at  her  side,  when  he 
said,  raising  his  voice  in  the  tumult :  — 


196  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  The  question  is,  if  we  make  noise  enough  over  here, 
will  England  ever  listen  and  take  warning !  " 

"  Warning ! "  thunder  drums  repeated,  the  long  roll 
rattling  down  the  valley.  It  was  like  a  call  to  arms. 

The  girl  shuddered.  "  I  hear  you  but  I  do  not  listen, 
Bassy.  I  am  deaf  in  that  ear." 

"  There  are  none  so  deaf,  truly,  as  those  who  won't  hear. 
I  understand  you,  though.  That  good  lady,  Madam  Schuy- 
ler,  has  the  same  difficulty,  multiplied  by  the  numbers  she 
has  to  listen  to  on  both  sides.  Have  you  talked  with  your 
father  about  American  affairs  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  seen  him,  even !  But  if  I  find  we  are  like 
to  differ,  I  shall  not  talk.  I  will  not  strive  over  politics 
with  those  I  love." 

"Well,  naturally,  if  it  means  to  you  no  more  than  'poli 
tics.'  " 

He  turned  to  the  hearth-place,  and  as  he  did  so,  took 
something  resembling  a  roll  of  leather  from  inside  his  wet 
coat.  The  fire-board  had  not  been  put  up  for  summer,  but 
the  hearth  was  clean  of  ashes. 

"  Could  we  have  a  bit  of  fire?  Not  that  I  am  cold,"  — 
he  was  glowing,  —  "  but  I  have  something  here  I  should 
like  to  dry  out  before  I  take  the  road  again." 

"  In  one  moment.    I  will  call  Jane." 

"  Be  good  enough  to  allow  me  to  make  it.  The  wood  is 
in  here,  if  I  remember  ?  "  He  raised  the  lid  of  an  oaken 
locker  fitted  as  a  seat  beside  the  chimney.  "  It  is  seven  years 
and  a  trifle  over  since  I  saw  the  dominie  lift  this  lid,  to 
mend  his  fire  —  for  a  boy  "  —  Bassy  knelt,  artfully  laying 
his  foundation  —  "  who  was  starting  on  a  cold  journey. 
He  allowed  me  to  put  on  the  sticks,  but  he  showed  me 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  197 

exactly  how ;  and  I  was  joyful  to  do  his  bidding.  I  would 
have  asked  no  better  than  to  stay  and  serve  him  all  my 
life." 

"  And  I  was  upstairs  sick  with  the  measles,"  said  Cath 
erine.  "  But  I  knew  who  it  was  came  in." 

"  Yes :  you  were  very  apt  at  knowing  things.  I  remem 
ber  the  woman's  letting  me  in  and  flying  up  to  shut  your 
door.  A  boy  can  take  a  hint." 

"  Joanna  did  not  count  in  such  things." 

"  Aye,  but  everything  counted  with  me  that  night.  I 
knew  my  little  friend  was  sick,  and  I  should  not  see  her 
again.  I  had  brought  a  little  farewell  token,  an  anchor 
and  chain  whittled  out  of  wood.  I  must  have  carved  six 
teen  of  those  links  before  I  could  finish  six  that  held  to 
gether.  I  may  say  for  years  I  heard  that  door  shut  in 
my  face ! " 

"Where  is  that  chain?  "  said  Catherine.  "  I  want  it !  " 

"  Huh  !  I  smashed  it  and  burnt  it  with  fire  !  " 

"  It  was  a  stupid  thing  to  do ;  and  all  because  poor  Jo 
anna  did  n't  wish  me  to  catch  cold ! " 

"  So  much  for  the  past.  Now  we  begin  over  again," 
said  Bassy.  "  I  have  a  good  deal  to  say  to  the  dominie 
this  afternoon.  It  seems  I  shall  miss  him  altogether. 
Could  I  burden  you  with  it?" 

He  laid  his  fire  economically,  as  one  who  has  fetched 
his  own  wood  and  kindlings.  When  the  last  stick  was  deftly 
added,  leading  the  flame  upward  and  spreading  it  for  its 
work,  he  answered  Catherine's  remonstrance  against  tak 
ing  the  road  so  soon. 

"  I  have  with  me,"  he  said  coolly, "  the  will  of  my  grand 
father,  Jeremy  Greathead  —  a  great  scoundrel  he  was.  I 


198  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

must  get  it  in  the  surrogate's  hands  as  quick  as  may  be.  If 
it  be  a  valid  document,  it  may  put  the  legatee  in  a  posi 
tion  to  block  some  of  these  heirs-in-a-hurry  who  plant  their 
corner-stakes  in  people's  graveyards.  Meantime,  the  less 
said  and  known  about  it  the  better." 

"  Who  is  the  legatee  ?  May  that  be  asked  ?  " 

"  I,"  said  Bassy,  "  am  my  father's  heir,  to  whom  the 
will  leaves  everything." 

Bassy  had  the  concentrated  speech  of  one  who  gives 
orders,  but  he  assumed  this  time  too  much  previous  know 
ledge  in  his  auditor.  His  coat  was  hung  on  a  chair  to  dry. 
In  shirt-sleeves  he  knelt  on  one  knee  and  held  to  the  fire 
a  case  of  shagreen  leather,  turning  it  as  it  began  to  steam. 
On  the  dominie's  table  a  parchment  roll,  which  the  limp 
leather  had  protected,  lay  stiffly  curled.  He  indicated  it 
with  a  look ;  Catherine  noted  its  mouldy,  unpleasant  ap 
pearance. 

"  Your  cousin  wrote  me  of  what  was  happening  here 
since  the  goody's  death.  He  asked  me  to  come  and  have 
a  talk  with  him.  I  knew  what  about !  I  expected  to  have 
had  this  whole  afternoon  with  him,  not  knowing  till  I  rode 
into  the  village  how  much  I  should  have  to  do,  and  at 
once.  You  will  tell  your  cousin,  please,  that  his  letter  ad 
dressed  to  Schuyler's  Mills  was  delayed,  being  forwarded 
to  New  York.  I  did  not  know  till  I  reached  here  that 
Jonathan  Havergal  was  no  more." 

"  Bassy,  you  are  beyond  anything  mysterious !  Am  I 
to  say  these  things  like  a  parrot?  For  if  there  is  any 
thing  you  intend  me  to  understand,  you  will  need  to  be 
plainer ! " 

"  I  wish  you  to  understand.  But  there  is  little  time  to 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  199 

repeat.  Do  you  happen  to  know  any  of  the  wormy  old 
secrets  connected  with  that  thing  ?  " 

"  That  ?  The  will  of  your  grandfather  —  whom  you  are 
so  impolite  to  ?  " 

"  I  am  very  sorry  I  have  to  have  a  grandfather,  if  it 
must  be  one  like  him.  So,  you  don't  know  —  "  Of  course 
she  did  not!  Who  would  have  told  her?  but  it  came 
rather  hard  to  have  to  tell  it  all  himself  —  "you  don't 
know  that  my  father  was  Goody  Greathead's  half-brother, 
and  that  he  was  not  entitled  to  his  father's  name  ?  " 

In  a  few  sentences  he  had  got  through  with  the  story  we 
have  heard  before  —  of  Greathead's  second  marriage  that 
was  no  marriage,  and  the  flight  of  Rose  Dunbar  with  her  son. 

"  Now  we  '11  skip  some  years  and  begin  again  at  the 
autumn  when  I  did  n't  come  back  to  school,  and  when  I 
did,  chucked  it  and  left  the  place  within  a  week." 

Catherine's  eyes  lighted  up.  "  I  know  about  that  at  least ! 
And  how  you  did  something  to  the  master  which  made  it 
awkward  for  you  both,  as  you  were  the  stronger." 

"  Slapped  his  face  for  not  blaming  me  because  my  father 
was  a  thief !  You  knew  that  ?  Then  you  know  what  I  came 
to  tell  your  cousin  that  night  when  I  sat  here  in  this  room 
by  his  fire  ?  " 

"  Yes :  he  called  it  all  the  work  of  Madam  Wind,  who 
blew  you  away  with  her  breath  of  lies." 

"  And  blew  me  back  again  to-day,  to  tell  you  they  were 
not  lies!  Your  good  cousin  believed  that  those  stories 
wronged  my  father.  Without  a  word  of  proof,  he  com 
forted  the  boy  and  sent  him  away  built  up  in  his  self- 
respect  ;  for  what  is  a  boy  who  doubts  his  own  father !  I 
had  begun  to  have  doubts  of  mine.  I  wrote  your  cousin 


200  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

of  my  father's  death,  after  what  happened  at  Sidling 
Hill." 

"  He  did  not  speak  of  it  to  me  till  months  afterward," 
said  Catherine.  "  I  think  he  never  liked  telling  painful 
news." 

"  He  would  not  have  spoken  of  that  letter.  It  was  a  con 
fidence.  I  owed  your  cousin  the  truth.  He  believed  in  my 
father,  and  yet  my  father  was  the  thief." 

"  Bassy ! " 

"  Yes :  I  might  put  it  different,  being  his  son.  There 
are  excuses  —  but  we  speak  now  of  facts.  He  was  ferret 
ing  out  this  very  will  —  which  he  did  not  know  existed  — 
when  he  dug  beneath  the  dame's  safe-cellar  and  frightened 
her  by  his  noises.  She  had  her  own  reasons,  I  suppose,  for 
thinking  her  father's  ghost  might  hang  around  that  place." 

"  Now  stop  and  tell  me  why  did  n't  she  burn  the  will  ?  " 

"  For  the  same  reason  —  ghosts.  Her  mind  was  all  gone 
to  pulp  like  her  limbs,  for  want  of  use.  She  had  no  cour 
age  even  to  see  who  was  there  when  she  heard  noises  in 
her  cellar.  I  am  afraid  my  father  knew  all  that  before  he 
ventured  on  the  job.  If  he  had  been  willing  only  to  wait. 
But  't  was  the  l  peace  mission '  overcame  him.  He  wanted 
—  what  he  took  —  the  dame's  hard  money  to  buy  his  goods, 
that  killed  him.  Literally  !  A  worm's  death,  he  called  it ; 
and  said  he  had  been  made  to  crawl  all  his  life  through 
the  fault  of  others." 

"  How  long  have  you  known  this,  Bassy  ?  " 

"  Since  my  father  told  it  me  the  day  before  he  died  — 
with  great  pride,  poor  man,  in  what  he  was  leaving  his  son. 
And  put  in  my  hand  the  papers  to  prove  identity  and  gave 
the  names  of  the  witnesses  to  his  mother's  dying  words. 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HEK  COUNTRY  201 

These  I  kept  as  a  boy — because  they  proved  something 
else.  That  my  father's  mother  was  a  good  woman,  and  the 
more  deceived." 

"  And  all  this  you  wrote  my  cousin  that  winter,  from 
James  Smith's?" 

"  I  did  not  want  him  to  be  deceived,  even  in  my  father." 

Catherine  nodded. 

"  But  one  thing  I  kept  back :  where  he  hid  the  will.  That 
has  been  my  secret,  because  I  meant  it  should  never  be 
unearthed.  I  should  have  had  to  carry  on  a  chain  of  lies  to 
prove  I  had  come  on  it  by  accident,  you  see  —  buried  by 
common  robbers  who  had  no  use  for  it,  except  perhaps  for 
blackmail.  That  was  his  plan.  It  could  n't  be  mine.  I 
should  have  had  to  come  out  with  the  truth,  as  I  must  now 
—  that  my  father  was  the  man  they  said  he  was;  who 
schemed  against  an  old,  sick  woman,  who  robbed  her  by 
using  a  brother's  knowledge  of  her  past.  And  yet,  he  took 
no  shame  for  what  he  did  —  saying  he  had  been  robbed 
all  his  life,  robbed  before  he  was  born,  and  what  he  had 
grasped  was  mere  justice,  too  late  for  him  but  not  for  his 
son.  He  was  dying.  I  did  not  tell  him  what  his  son  thought 
about  it.  He  acknowledged  no  shame  ;  yet  hiding  the  will 
showed  he  knew  there  might  be  a  different  way  of  looking 
at  it  —  which  he  had  provided  for." 

"  I  can  hardly  wait !  "  sighed  Catherine,  who  began  to 
see  how  all  this  was  coming  out. 

"  Yes ;  the  will  was  buried,  and  here  he  showed  the 
strange,  crooked  working  of  his  mind.  If  he  had  put  the 
time  and  thought  he  wasted  nosing  round  this  old  carrion 
grant  and  other  schemes,  scores  of  them,  into  straightaway 
hard  work  for  a  living,  he  'd  have  been  a  rich  as  well  as  a 


202  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

blameless  man.  Think  how  he  worked  it  out !  He  ran  the 
north  and  west  boundary  lines  of  the  property  (he  could 
survey  among  other  things),  and  where  they  intersected 
in  the  Friends'  burying-ground,  —  a  good  place  for  secrecy, 
—  he  buried  the  will.  On  two  trees,  north  and  south,  he 
left  his  'points,'  explaining  all  to  me:  how  when  the 
old  woman  died  and  the  estate  came  to  settlement,  I  must 
get  the  job  of  running  those  boundary  lines  and  come 
upon  the  will  by  *  accident.'  That  accident,  of  course,  was 
to  make  me  a  rich  man.  This  morning  I  looked  up  my 
points ;  the  lines  met  where  you  saw  me  standing,  trying 
to  make  up  my  mind.  If  I  had  n't  met  you  there,  Cath 
erine,  I  believe  I  should  have  gone  away  and  left  that  stone 
unturned ;  but  you  told  me  in  your  first  words  about  the 
mother's  wish.  So,  if  Jonathan  had  to  be  laid  beneath 
that  stake,  why  the  will  would  have  to  come  up.  I  hope 
the  good  man's  bones  may  sweeten  the  ground  that  cov 
ered  it." 

"  I  can  see  how  you  would  have  felt  about  it  as  a  boy ; 
but  do  you  not  see  it  a  little  different  now  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  feeling  you  don't  outgrow.  I  have  always  been 
shy  on  the  point  of  family.  You  can  get  used  to  having 
none  —  even  when  you  live  with  grandees  like  the  Schuy- 
lers ;  but  to  come  into  your  own  and  have  to  publish  it, 
that  your  great-grandfather  was  a  traitor  and  your  grand 
father  a  seducer  and  your  father  a  liar  and  a  —  " 

"  Bassy,  you  will  burn  that  leather !  Give  it  to  me." 

Catherine  took  from  him  the  shagreen  case  and  smoothed 
and  stretched  it  on  her  knee,  passing  her  white  hands  over 
it,  the  beautiful  hands  that  English  ladies  had  and  English 
painters  painted,  the  firelight  flashing  in  her  rings. 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  203 

Bassy  watched  the  hands  in  silence. 

"  Now  I  know,  of  course,  why  you  were  sent  for  when 
this  trouble  came  upon  the  neighbors  ;  why  my  cousin  said, 
*  Come  and  have  a  talk  with  me.' ' 

"  This  is  the  talk,"  said  Bassy. 

"  But  you  acted  first." 

"  I  suppose  you  may  call  it  acting.  At  least  you  know 
why  I  was  so  keen  for  the  job  of  gravedigger.  If  a  hired 
man  had  jumped  in  there  with  his  pick,  he  might  have 
finished  my  title,  if  it  be  a  title." 

"  Your  title  to  good  deeds !  " 

"  How  do  you  know  what  I  shall  do  ?  " 

"  How  knew  my  cousin  when  he  sent  for  you  ?  " 

"Your  good  cousin  has  great  faith  in  his  fellow-men." 

"  My  good  cousin  knows  his  Bassy  !  " 

"  And  you  knew  him  once.  Was  there  in  the  boy  you 
knew  anything  to  persuade  you  the  man  would  covet  this 
property  —  at  the  price  ?  Skin  for  skin  —  all  that  he  hath, 
will  a  man  give  for  his  life,  but  not  for  a  parcel  of  land  in 
a  country  as  big  as  this.  I  have  said  in  the  pride  of  a  boy, 
if  there 's  not  land  enough  for  me  to  get  some  of  my  own, 
I  will  take  to  the  sea,  or  squat  on  some  poor  Indian's  and 
drive  him  off  it,  as  some  of  the  men  I  used  to  admire  have 
done ;  and  dearly  will  pay  for  it,  some  day !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean,"  said  Catherine.  "  Who  are  those 
men?" 

"  Some  of  them  were  at  Sidling  Hill,  and  some  were 
at  Lancaster  Jail  when  the  Conestoga  Indians  were  mur 
dered.  Brave  as  bulldogs,  they  are ;  and  true  to  their 
breed,  and  were  my  heroes  once.  For  I  was  sick  of  lies, 
and  men  of  brains  eaten  out  with  money  schemes.  I  said 


204  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

4  Give  me  a  horse  and  a  gun  and  I  will  see  the  end  of  the 
world  before  I  '11  turn  back  to  put  my  hand  in  any  such  a 
rotten  fleshpot.'  ' 

Catherine  shuddered  at  this  upheaval  of  a  boy's  heart, 
so  embittered  after  keeping  its  secret  trouble  all  these 
years. 

"  Yes ;  I  would  have  gone  with  them  out  on  the  Wyoming 
lands,  —  which  no  white  man  has  a  right  to  settle  on,  — 
but  your  cousin  held  me  back ;  and  got  me  a  better  start 
under  a  very  different  hero.  If  ever  any  man  had  the 
right  to  advise,  nay,  command  another's  action,  your 
cousin  has  that  right  in  me.  Yet  all  he  said  was  4  Come 
and  let  us  reason  together.'  Such  is  the  tenderness  of  his 
touch  when  he  lays  it  on  another's  responsibility.  All  I 
ask  of  you,  Catherine,  is  —  remember  when  I  begin  to  stir 
in  this  matter,  it  is  not  for  the  land,  yet  some  of  it  will 
like  enough  stick  to  my  fingers." 

"  I  think  I  am  able  to  measure  your  sacrifice.  But  in  your 
place  I  should  count  it  as  nothing  compared  to  the  honor 
of  that  summons  from  a  man  like  my  cousin.  When  he 
asked  you  to  lay  aside  your  pride  and  take  up  your  respon 
sibility,  without  a  question  as  to  how  you  would  use  it  — 
for  a  man  of  your  age,  Bassy,  I  call  that  a  laurel  crown  !  " 

"  Then  crown  me,"  said  Bassy  quietly.  He  took  her  two 
hands  and  kissed  them  and  laid  them  on  his  forehead,  bend 
ing  his  height  to  receive  the  benediction. 

She  stepped  back  with  a  face  as  hot  as  fire. 

His  look  was  grand,  but  as  she  gave  him  back  her  full, 
frank  gaze,  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes  for  the  pain  she 
knew  one  day  she  must  make  him  suffer.  She  saw  that  he 
would  not  speak  now,  but  equally  she  saw  that  he  had  not 


CATHERINE  CHOOSES  HER  COUNTRY  205 

understood  her  tears.  A  great  scruple  stirred  within  her  for 
this  wrong  to  their  friendship,  this  breach  of  his  trust  in 
her  truth  ;  but  her  promise  to  Francis  bound  her. 

They  had  not  observed  while  talking  that  a  break  was 
come  in  the  storm.  Bassy  had  no  more  time  to  stay.  He 
added  to  his  other  messages  that  Catherine  was  to  tell  her 
cousin  that  he  would  be  heard  from  soon  ;  and  would  ask 
Mr.  Philip  Schuyler's  advice  about  a  lawyer. 

Catherine  followed  him  to  the  gate.  "  I  want  to  see  your 
rainbow,"  she  said.  "  I  think  you  are  going  to  have  one  to 
ride  away  under." 

"  I  need  one,"  said  Bassy. 

"  Well,  there  it  is  !  What  did  I  say !  " 

There  it  was,  —  one  end  of  it,  —  mounting  in  delicate 
splendor  from  the  shining,  steaming  meadow.  It  brightened 
against  the  dark  woods,  glowing  with  jewel-depths  of  color 
—  the  marvel  of  the  sky !  It  reached  the  zenith  and  was 
lost. 

"  It 's  a  broken  one,"  said  Bassy. 

"  No  ;  it's  not  finished.  There  are  no  broken  rainbows!  " 

"  There  are  some  that  stop  in  the  sky." 

"  Well,  is  n't  that  a  good  place  to  stop  ?  " 

"  Not  for  a  promise  that  applies  to  something  you  need 
here,"  said  Bassy. 

He  said  good-by  and  went  down  the  lane  to  the  stable 
for  his  horse.  In  a  moment  he  came  spattering  past  the 
gate  and  waved  his  hat  to  Catherine.  His  face  was  so  full 
of  light  and  joy  that  she  ran  out  to  meet  him,  looking  up 
the  lane  toward  the  woods. 

"  Where  is  it  ?  Do  you  see  it  ?  " 

"  See  it  ?  "  He  slacked  rein,  his  eyes  seeing  her  only. 


206  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  I  thought  you  saw  your  rainbow  finished." 

"  Oh,  not  yet,"  he  answered. 

"  Well,  that  was  a  great  talk ! "  said  Catherine  as  he 
rode  away,  "  and  now  I  know  my  dear  old  Bassy.  But  he 
does  not  know  me,  alas  !  He  does  not  know  me." 


BOOK  IV 

THE   POVERTY  OF   FRANCIS 


CHAPTER  XXV 

WE  are  to  suppose  it  is  Sunday,  or  rather  First  Day, 
morning.  Ann  Havergal  and  her  children  and  grandchil 
dren  are  assembled  for  the  silent  meeting  of  the  Friends. 
This  is  the  sitting-room ;  in  the  bedroom  back  of  it,  on  the 
blue  and  white  homespun  counterpane  of  the  bed  where 
Jonathan  "  passed  away,"  lies  a  plain  silk  bonnet  and  a 
white  shoulder  shawl  which  Simeon's  wife  has  worn  cross 
ing  the  fields  from  her  own  house,  because  it  is  First  Day 
and  a  sunbonnet  were  unseemly.  The  caps  of  her  two  little 
girls  are  on  the  bed,  for  the  grandmother  even  now  is  say 
ing  she  likes  to  see  their  hair  uncovered  and  is  putting  it 
neatly  behind  their  ears  with  her  dry,  large-jointed  fingers  ; 
and  Simeon's  wife,  though  she  sees  it  is  not  becoming  to 
their  high  foreheads,  smiles  and  says  nothing.  Her  little 
Jonathan's  hat  is  beside  his  father's  broad-brim  in  the  hall. 

Simeon,  a  man  of  whom  nothing  need  be  said  except  that 
he  is  good,  sits  in  his  father's  black  oak  saddle-seated  chair, 
his  son  beside  him  in  a  green  painted  Windsor,  the  worn 
front  rungs  of  which  show  where  two  generations  of  youth 
ful  heels  have  restlessly  supported  their  owners,  or  kicked 
at  ease,  as  little  Jonathan's  are  doing  now,  until  his  father 
lays  a  heavy  hand  on  his  son's  knee. 

On  the  same  side  of  the  room  sits  Francis  his  profile  to 
the  window.  He  looks  like  a  poet  in  prison.  David,  near 
him,  a  powerful  figure,  his  head  sunk  on  his  breast,  waits 
for  the  Spirit  to  give  him  speech ;  for  his  heart  yearneth 
over  his  brother,  this  same  listless  Francis  with  his  side 


210  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

face  against  the  light,  its  beauty  of  outline  the  more  evident 
for  that  strong  effect  of  shadow. 

Simeon's  wife,  thin,  plain  like  her  little  girls,  the  type 
of  a  Holbein  Madonna,  sits  at  Ann  Havergal's  right  hand 
with  her  six-year-old  daughter  on  a  hassock  close  to  her 
knee.  The  child  has  thrown  one  arm  across  the  mother's 
lap,  and  stares  out  of  window  wishing  herself  free.  The 
youngest,  two  and  a  half  years,  is  falling  asleep  in  her 
grandmother's  arms. 

Ann  Havergal  is  a  beautiful  figure,  too  sacred  for  a 
passing  description.  She  is  no  painter's  model,  though  a 
painter  might  paint  her  on  his  knees.  It  is  better  to  leave 
her  to  the  imagination  as  she  sits  there  thinking  of  her 
dead  husband,  reviewing  their  long  life  together,  the  drowsy 
grandchild  nestling  against  her  breast.  Her  hands  cradle  it 
easily,  accustomed  to  the  work ;  hands  too  large  and  toil- 
worn  for  the  delicate  sensitive  face  of  the  purest  eight 
eenth-century  type  of  English  motherhood  and  ladyhood ; 
yet  the  hands  tell  the  best  of  the  story. 

This  is  a  family  of  which  it  could  be  said,  up  to  this  time, 
that  no  member  of  it  has  had  a  secret  from  the  other. 
Now,  there  are  two.  One  which  the  children  in  common 
are  keeping  from  the  mother,  the  secret  of  that  corner  mon 
ument  in  the  burying-ground  and  another  like  it  in  the 
heart  of  her  children's  inheritance.  The  second  is  Francis's 
secret  —  altogether  peculiar  to  him  and  his  nature. 

It  is  very  near  betraying  itself  this  moment,  for  he  has 
heard  the  road-gate  creak,  and  looking  out  sees  Catherine 
shutting  it,  her  pony's  bridle  over  her  arm.  She  has  her 
linen  riding-skirt  caught  up  under  one  elbow,  and  a  wreath 
of  pink  is  on  her  hat. 


THE   POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS  211 

A  long,  sick  sigh  escapes  him.  He  leans  back  in  his 
chair  and  does  not  look  again. 

The  silence  is  so  complete  that  a  bumble-bee  boring 
under  the  bench  on  the  front  porch  is  heard  to  fall  with  a 
sizz  to  the  floor.  Little  Jonathan  chuckles  and  looks  at 
his  father,  who  is  immovable,  and  then  at  his  little  sis 
ter,  who  sparkles  and  laughs  out  loud.  It  is  a  saving  inci 
dent  for  the  children.  They  sigh  together  when  it  is 
over. 

Comes  a  light,  quick  knock  on  the  front  door  —  the 
upper  half  standing  open.  No  one  answers,  while  each 
waits  for  the  other.  Catherine,  who  thinks  she  under 
stands  the  reason  of  this  silence,  does  not  knock  again 
but  lifts  the  iron  latch  and  lets  it  down  softly.  The  lower 
half-door  opens  with  a  jar.  The  first  floors  of  the  house 
have  settled  permanently  since  it  was  built  in  haste  to 
cover  the  family,  that  rainy  autumn  forty  years  ago. 

Francis  breathes  deeply  and  carefully  as  he  waits  for 
that  light  step  to  pause.  He  raises  his  long  eyelids.  The 
past  few  days  have  set  them  back  in  his  head  a  trifle, 
giving  the  look  of  recent  illness.  Catherine  sees  him  first, 
and  is  touched  by  his  wanness  and  overcome  at  the  meet 
ing  of  their  eyes.  She  stands  in  the  doorway  all  one  blush, 
a  feast  of  color.  No  one  there  could  say  how  she  is 
dressed,  only  it  is  white  and  blue ;  she  has  taken  off  her 
riding-skirt  and  the  linen  sleeves  that  protected  her  arms, 
now  bare  to  the  elbow.  They  are  but  a  fainter  pink  than 
her  cheeks  —  the  deep  rose-color  that  stops  at  the  white 
ness  around  her  scarlet  mouth. 

David  is  in  a  dream.  Simeon  is  not  quick  enough. 
Francis,  finding  himself  the  only  man  on  his  feet,  sits 


212  THE   EOYAL  AMERICANS 

down  feeling  a  weakness  through  him,  the  weakness  of 
strong  wine  in  the  veins  of  one  who  has  fasted. 

Simeon's  wife  brings  forward  a  chair  and  shakes  hands 
with  Catherine  matter-of-factly.  Ann  Havergal,  support 
ing  the  little  sleeper  with  one  arm,  smiles  and  quietly 
holds  out  her  free  hand  to  Catherine,  who  sinks  low  and 
kisses  it.  Her  own  hand  is  held  and  gathered  in  and  the 
widow  draws  her  close,  laying  her  soft  cheek  against 
Catherine's,  the  suppressed  grief  of  the  aged  stirring  the 
folds  of  her  breast  handkerchief.  Catherine  wipes  away 
a  tear  or  two,  but  is  exquisitely  happy.  Only  when  she 
looks  at  Francis,  she  wonders  can  he  have  been  ill? 

Her  cousin  has  been  ill  in  bed  since  the  funeral.  This 
is  the  first  day  she  could  have  left  him,  even  to  pay  her 
respects  to  the  bereaved  household.  And  Francis  in  that 
week's  time  has  not  written.  But  in  that  first  look  he 
gave  her  there  was  all  the  assurance  a  girl  could  ask  that 
silence  does  not  always  mean  forgetting.  She  sits  still 
with  her  head  down  and  dreams. 

The  little  six-year-old  on  her  hassock  hitches  forward 
to  get  a  better  look  across  her  mother's  skirts  at  the  lovely 
stranger,  and  the  little  boy's  gaze  is  solemnly  fastened  on 
her.  Catherine  ventures  a  glance  at  Francis  to  communi 
cate  her  delight  in  these  little  ones.  It  turns  out  to  be  an 
expensive  form  of  sympathy,  leading  to  another  blush,  an 
overwhelming  one  that  goes  on  from  blush  to  blush  till 
she  can  see  no  more.  No  one  perceives  her  state  but 
Francis.  His  heart  almost  stops  as  he  looks  at  her.  He 
too  resolves  to  look  no  more  till  he  can  have  her  all  to 
himself. 

David  had  arisen  and  stood  silent,  swaying  his  great 


THE  POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS  213 

body  on  the  large  pedestal  of  his  feet.  A  tall  man  with  a 
high,  square-cornered  head  covered  with  straight  fair  hair ; 
harsh  features  and  a  glorious  blue  eye,  the  eye  of  a  sailor, 
a  discoverer,  who  searches  far  horizons. 

When  he  spoke  at  last,  the  words  followed  each  other 
continuously  in  a  voice  of  tender  resonance.  Its  volume 
filled  the  room  yet  it  was  far  from  loud,  especially  at 
the  beginning  of  each  paragraph  or  division.  He  opened 
quietly,  in  the  manner  of  prose,  and  mounted,  soaring 
into  a  form  of  recitative  peculiarly  objectionable  to  Fran 
cis,  who  never  lost  sight  of  his  brother's  delivery  through 
absorption  in  his  message. 

He  could  have  borne  with  it  himself,  being  used  to  it ; 
but  he  heard  it  now  with  Catherine's  ears,  fancying  how 
ludicrous  it  must  seem  to  her.  But  Catherine  sat  com 
pletely  lost,  wrapped  in  the  words  of  the  speaker. 

"  A  little  thing,  Beloveds,  will  destroy  the  work  of  God 
in  the  heart.  A  little  reasoning  of  the  earthly  spirit  (though 
about  ever  so  small  a  matter)  drives  back  the  soul  upon 
doubting,  and  disobedience  to  the  call. 

"  '  Do  not  go  yet,'  saith  the  Enemy.  '  Thy  way  is  not 
yet  plain  before  thee.  Thy  light  is  not  yet  clear  enough. 
The  reason  or  consideration  which  is  objected  is  not  fully 
answered.'  Thus  many  pure  drawings  of  the  Father  have 
been  lost,  and  the  soul  thereby  hath  missed  of  the  hand 
which  was  put  forth  to  show  the  way. 

"  It  is  the  unbeliever  hangs  back  and  cries, 4  Where  shall 
I  have  the  power  ?  Which  way  shall  I  ever  be  able  to 
pass  through  this  intricate  wilderness  ?  How  shall  I,  single- 
handed,  overcome  those  many  lurking  enemies  which  are 
already  in  possession  of  the  land  ? ' 


214  THE   KOYAL  AMERICANS 

"  This  is  not  the  right  seed.  This  is  not  the  true  Israel 
for  whom  the  everlasting  inheritance  is  prepared. 

"  What  did  the  true  church  carry  with  her  into  the 
wilderness  ?  When  the  true  worshipers  went,  did  not  the 
temple  and  the  altar  go  along  with  them  ?  The  virtue,  the 
life,  and  the  power  ?  And  what  did  God  regard  the  out 
ward  ?  4  Leave  it  out  of  my  measure,'  saith  the  Lord ;  4  and 
give  it  to  the  Gentiles.' 

"  What  is  the  cup,  the  golden  cup,  which  the  false 
church  hath  in  her  hand  wherein  are  sorceries  and  witch 
crafts  wherewith  she  bewitcheth  people  and  maketh  them 
drunk?  Is  it  not  the  glorious  appearance  of  things  with 
out  the  true  life  and  power?  Yea,  the  life,  the  power, 
and  the  spirit  that  was  in  the  apostle's  days  ?  What  re 
mains  of  these  are  to  be  found  with  the  true  church  in  the 
wilderness  ? 

"  There  is  no  man  perisheth  for  want  of  power,  for  there 
is  power  in  the  free  gift  which  comes  upon  all.  The  seed 
of  the  Kingdom  is  sown,  man  knows  not  how,  even  by  the 
sound  of  the  eternal  spirit.  He  looks  for  the  Spirit  in  a  way 
that  is  answerable  to  his  thoughts  and  the  expectations  of 
his  heart.  But  thus  it  never  comes.  It  springs  in  the  heart 
of  many,  and  they  overlook  the  thing  and  turn  from  it 
daily,  not  knowing  its  proper  appearance  but  expecting  it 
some  other  way. 

"  A  little  thing,  in  the  beginning,  —  a  little  turning  of 
the  way,  —  will  destroy  the  work  of  God  in  the  heart ;  in 
the  faith,  in  obedience  to  God's  spirit.  Those  who  have 
traveled  longer  than  I  in  the  path  of  life,  I  know  can  wit 
ness  this ! 

"  Oh,  how  small  a  thing  brings  a  veil  over  the  life !  What 


THE  POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS  215 

a  little  giving  way  to  the  reasonings  of  the  earthly  spirit 
drives  back  the  work  of  God  in  the  heart,  and  prepares 
the  way  for  endless  regrets,  Beloveds,  endless  regrets  !  " 

As  suddenly  as  he  had  begun  to  speak,  David  ceased, 
and  sat  down  and  remained  very  still  a  moment,  while 
Simeon  changed  his  feet  on  the  sanded  floor  and  the  little 
girl  on  the  hassock,  accustomed  to  her  uncle's  voice  in 
preaching,  forgot  it  instantly  as  an  interruption  and  whis 
pered,  "Who  is  she  ?  Who  is  she,  mother?  " 

"  Hush-sh !  "  said  the  mother,  smiling  at  Catherine,  who 
roused  herself  with  a  quick  sigh. 

David  leaned  forward  and  reached  his  hand  to  his  elder 
brother.  Simeon  shook  it  up  and  down  heartily  as  if  they 
had  not  met  for  some  time ;  and  then  David  turned  to 
Francis. 

Catherine  looked  hastily  away. 

"  Let  me  carry  her  in,  mother !  She  is  too  heavy  for 
thee." 

The  two  slender  women  strove  together  for  the  rosy 
little  burden  in  the  grandmother's  arms  ;  who  prevailed  by 
right  of  possession.  As  she  bore  off  the  prize  of  sleep,  her 
stiff  steps  half  supported  by  the  mother's  arm,  she  said, 
"  If  we  had  no  heavier  loads  than  these  to  carry !  " 

Catherine  followed  them.  She  had  been  presented  to 
Simeon's  wife  as  soon  as  David,  extending  his  hand  to  his 
brother,  dissolved  the  meeting.  This  prompt  descent  to  every 
day  intercourse  from  the  heights  of  spiritual  communion 
bewildered  the  young  girl,  but  she  accepted  it  as  part  of 
the  Friends'  simplicity  and  their  want  of  humor. 

"  Stay  and  talk  to  mother.  I  must  run  and  see  about 
dinner.  Thee  will  stay  and  sit  down  with  us  ?  " 


216  THE  EOYAL  AMERICANS 

"  To  dinner  ?  Oh,  I  cannot  stay  to  dinner,"  said  Cath 
erine,  alarmed. 

"Well,  dinner  will  be  late:  I  have  to  fry  the  chickens. 
Mother  has  no  one  to  help  her  to-day.  So,  if  thee  does  not 
wish  to  stay,  there  is  time  for  quite  a  little  talk." 

Simeon's  wife  left  them,  and  Catherine,  obeying  Friend 
Havergal's  motion,  came  and  sat  beside  her  in  the  window. 
They  spoke  in  the  soft  tones  natural  to  them,  lowered  a 
trifle  on  account  of  the  little  sleeper  on  the  bed. 

"  David  bore  on  rather  hard  this  morning;  it  might 
seem  so  to  a  stranger.  He  is  greatly  exercised  about 
Francis.  The  father's  will  was  no  surprise  to  me.  I  tried 
to  dissuade  him,  when  we  talked  it  over,  from  choosing 
Francis.  But  Edwin  has  his  business  in  New  York :  he  is 
settled  on  his  lees.  Simeon's  wife  is  delicate,  and  Simeon 
would  not  have  been  the  one  for  the  work  father  had  in 
mind.  No  ;  he  saw  that.  David  has  a  gift  for  the  ministry. 
Father  left  him  the  mill  property ;  that  is  not  so  confining 
as  land.  He  can  employ  a  miller  or  rent  the  mill,  and  be 
free  when  he  has  a  concern  to  travel.  There  was  only  our 
Francis  ;  and  father  had  set  his  heart,  —  he  believed  it  a 
duty  for  every  family  rooted  in  peace  to  send  out  one  son 
into  the  wilderness,  where  homes  of  unjust  men  do  mul 
tiply  as  we  know,  by  violence,  often,  and  fraud ;  where  the 
true  seed  is  not  planted.  That  was  why  David  laid  such 
stress  on  the  faith  that  brings  the  power  ;  for  Francis  thinks 
he  has  not  the  power.  He  does  not  know  what  he  has  till 
he  tries !  But  it  is  a  very  sudden  call.  He  does  not  seem  to 
be  quite  ready.  I  think  David  expects  rather  too  much  of 
him,  considering.  We  have  had  a  trying  week  ;  or  I  should 
have  sent  to  inquire  after  thy  cousin.  We  heard  he  was 
sick  abed." 


THE   POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS  217 

After  a  few  words  to  Catherine  as  to  her  own  home  mat 
ters,  Friend  Havergal's  sweet,  weary  monotone  went  on 
again.  Her  sentences  broke  off  as  if  her  breath  gave  out, 
wasted  by  some  inward  load  it  carried. 

"  I  hope  it  was  not  awkward  for  thee  sitting  through  our 
meeting  ?  " 

"  It  was  partly  what  I  came  for,"  said  Catherine.  "  At 
least  it  was  why  I  chose  this  time." 

"  I  wish  David  had  considered  a  little  who  was  present 
before  he  said  so  much  about  '  the  false  church.'  Thy 
family  will  be  Church  of  England,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Yes."  Catherine  owned  they  had  been  so  for  several 
generations.  But  there  were  many  ways  of  reading  Reve 
lation.  She  had  taken  David's  words  to  apply  to  the  spirit 
of  worldliness  in  general :  worship  of  the  '  outward '  every 
church  must  contend  against  after  the  days  of  its  martyrs 
are  over. 

"  Yes,  probably ;  yet  he  is  pretty  severe  sometimes  with 
the  Puritans  and  Presbyterians.  We  suffered  grievous 
things  at  their  hands,  both  in  the  mother  country  and  in 
New  England.  In  Cromwell's  time,  as  Robert  Barclay 
said,  there  was  hardly  a  prison  that  was  not  filled  with  our 
people,  nor  a  judge  in  England  before  whom  they  were  not 
haled.  David's  father  took  great  pride  in  those  testimonies. 
No  one  could  say  of  us  then  that  we  testified  in  corners 
and  safe  places !  My  husband  labored  sorely  over  some 
words  of  thy  cousin's,  spoke  when  they  both  were  somewhat 
heated  by  controversy.  He  understood  him  to  accuse  the 
Friends  of  backwardness  in  their  own  persons  to  encounter 
the  stripes.  That  they  kept  within  the  settled  districts, 
sending  out  sermons  and  missionaries,  but  took  no  risks 


218  THE   EOYAL  AMERICANS 

with  their  own  property  and  wives  and  children,  as  the 
Presbyterians  did  on  the  border,  who  bore  the  brunt  of  the 
savage  raids,  —  and  provoked  them,  my  husband  felt.  And 
to  answer  the  first  charge,  so  far  as  one  man  might,  he  re 
solved  to  give  at  least  one  son  to  planting  the  true  church, 
the  church  of  righteous  deeds  in  the  wilderness,  and  defend 
ing  it  through  the  power  of  faith  and  pure  living,  rather 
than  force  of  arms.  If  every  man  did  this  who  had  raised 
up  sons  he  could  trust  to  live  by  the  law  of  Christ  where  no 
law  of  man  can  reach,  —  thee  sees,  my  dear,  how  it  might 
advance  the  friendship  between  our  race  and  the  savages. 
For  every  white  man  who  comes  in  contact  with  them, 
where  white  men  are  so  few,  stands  to  them  for  the  whole 
race. 

"  'Wild  tares  of  violence  and  injustice  are  scattered  broad 
cast,'  said  my  husband,  4  and  many  are  the  hands  that  sow. 
Shall  hands  that  are  pure  of  bloodshed  be  wanting  to  sow 
the  good  seed?  Shall  our  great  frontier,  where  all  the 
trouble  breeds,  be  held  by  violence  only,  and  perfidy  and 
greed  ? ' 

"  I  speak  a  great  deal  of  our  own  affairs,"  —  the  tired 
voice  sank,  —  "  but  it  is  a  serious  question.  I  feel  my  son's 
whole  life  is  at  stake.  My  husband  asked  of  me  the  sacrifice  — 
to  part  with  him  —  before  he  laid  on  him  this,  his  last  com 
mand.  I  was  able  to  make  it,  but  I  may  say,  barely  able ! 
It  came  pretty  hard.  Perhaps  I  am  to  be  punished  now  by 
keeping  my  son,  at  the  cost  of  seeing  him  draw  back  from 
his  own  share  in  the  sacrifice. 

"  But  my  dear,  I  am  forgetting !  Do  lay  off  thy  hat  and 
stay  with  us  to  dinner  ?  —  Thee  must  go !  Well,  it  has  been 
a  pleasure  to  see  thy  face.  I  love  all  young  people,  but  I 


THE   POVEETY  OF  FKANCIS  219 

seem  drawn  to  thee  in  a  very  particular  manner.  Give  my 
kind  regards  to  thy  cousin;  and  I  do  hope  his  cold  will  soon 
be  better.  We  appreciated  his  coming.  My  husband  had 
a  great  wish  to  see  him  oftener ;  he  valued  his  conversa 
tion,  as  a  precious  opportunity.  Come  again,  will  thee  not  ? 
I  shall  dearly  love  to  see  thee." 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

CATHERINE  had  told  herself  that  her  visit  was  solely  to 
Francis's  mother ;  and  to  sit  out  the  hour  of  worship  with 
the  family  of  the  man  she  loved.  But,  climbing  the  hill,  — 
Melissa  showed  her  thirteen  years  when  it  came  to  hills, 
—  a  sense  of  something  wanting  reminded  her  that  she 
had  not  been  honest  with  herself ;  for,  except  that  she  had 
not  spoken  to  Francis  or  seen  him  again,  in  every  other 
respect  she  had  had  a  wonderful  morning. 

And  then,  waiting  for  her  at  the  watering-trough  — 
which  Melissa  knew  too  well  to  pass  —  stood  Francis  him 
self.  He  took  the  pony's  bridle  and  led  her  through  the 
gate,  Catherine  submitting  without  question. 

They  were  in  a  wheat-field  covering  a  slope  of  many 
acres  that  fell  away  into  a  deep  valley.  There  had  been 
hills  in  sight  before  the  wheat  was  grown.  It  was  now 
breast-high,  and  the  view  completely  lost. 

On  a  ridge  where  the  last  furrow  overgrown  with  grass 
mounded  up  against  the  fence,  they  seated  themselves. 
Three  cedars  close  together  on  the  road  cast  a  blue  dark 
ness  over  them,  but  the  shadow  at  midday  reached  not 
beyond  their  feet.  There  was  nothing  beyond  save  color 
and  motion,  —  waves  of  deeper  green  made  by  the  wind 
tumbling  and  gliding  over  the  glistening  billowy  wheat, 
and  soft  spots  of  gloom  where  a  cloud  shadow  crossed  it. 
Overhead,  the  ineffable  sky  of  June. 

"  Why  have  I  never  seen  a  wheat-field  before  ? "  said 
Catherine,  half  closing  her  dazzled  eyes.  "  The  world  must 


THE   POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS  221 

be  full  of  wheat-fields,  but  I  never  saw  anything  like 
this." 

"  Are  there  no  wheat-fields  in  England  ?  " 

"  There  is  everything  in  England !  but  somehow  nothing 
for  me.  I  never  could  have  dreamed  of  riding  into  a  man's 
field  and  sitting  down  in  his  wheat !  There  would  have 
been  no  one  to  sit  down  with ! "  she  laughed  to  herself. 

"I  am  glad  you  are  more  at  home  with  me,  Cather 
ine  —  dear  —  sweet !  You  were  so  shy  and  frightened  of 
me  at  first." 

"  But  was  I  shy  ?  Sometimes  I  have  thought  I  was  not 
shy  enough.  It  was  so  easy  to  love  you,  Francis." 

Francis  without  speaking  showed  how  easy  it  was  to 
love  her. 

"  There  is  my  hand.  Now !  we  are  in  meeting.  Take 
away  your  arm,  dear  Francis  '  Beloved.'  I  want  to  preach 

—  I  mean  —  I  want  David  to  preach  to  us  both.    Can 
you  not  hear  his  words  still  ?  " 

"  Are  you  thinking  of  the  « true  church'  and  the  '  false 
church  '  and  the  « cup  wherewith  she  bewitcheth  people 
and  maketh  them  drunk '  ?  " 

Catherine  turned  and  looked  at  him  in  amazement.  He 
was  even  imitating  —  delicately,  Francis  did  nothing  gross 

—  his  brother's  peculiar,  slightly  nasal  cadence. 

"  Of  course,"  she  observed  dryly,  "  there  is  nothing  in 
this  world  —  to  say  nothing  of  Revelation  —  that  cannot 
be  turned  into  ridicule  if  one  has  no  other  way  of  seeing 
things." 

She  forcibly  took  away  her  hand.  The  wind  rocked  the 
wheat  with  long  soothings,  hushings  of  the  eternal  lullaby. 

A  miserable  silence  followed ;  then  Catherine,  relenting, 


222  THE  KOYAL  AMERICANS 

said,  " '  Preach  '  was  not  the  right  word !  I  always  go  too 
fast !  What  I  should  have  said,"  —  she  gave  him  back 
her  hand ;  he  took  it  simply  like  a  child,  and  passionately 
kissed  it,  —  "  what  I  meant  was  this :  if  I  am  the  make 
weight,  the  hindrance ;  if  what  you  have  said  to  me  inter 
feres  with  your  keeping  your  father's  last  command,  then 
am  /the  '  outward.'  Leave  me  out  of  your  measure  ! " 

"And  '  give  you  to  the  Gentiles '  ? "  smiled  Francis. 

"  Leave  me  out !  so  long  as  I  hinder.  But  I  would  say 
too  —  if  a  woman  may  say  it  to  a  man  who  has  not  asked 
her  —  I  will  go  with  you  to-morrow  to  the  world's  end,  on 
such  a  call.  I  ask  no  prouder  invitation.  I  would  be  the 
wife  of  the  poorest  man  that  lives,  if  I  loved  him,  and  he 
were  bound  to  such  an  undertaking.  Think,  think  what  it 
would  bring  to  pass !  Suppose  that  we  had  cut  this  field 
out  of  the  immensity  of  the  forest,  and  planted  this  won 
derful  beauty  for  a  sign  of  the  work  of  the  husbandman ; 
his  care  of  his  family  and  the  poor,  and  his  forethought  for 
the  winter.  Farming  is  creation  !  Are  you  not  proud  to  be 
a  farmer,  Francis  ?  " 

"  I  never  should  be  a  farmer  because  I  was  proud 
of  it." 

"  What  better  could  a  man  of  our  time  be  ?  To  plant 
the  land  our  fathers  conquered  in  those  frightful  old 
wars  —  " 

"  My  fathers  did  not  get  their  land  that  way,"  Francis 
reminded  her. 

"  But  we  would  plant  in  the  spirit  of  your  fathers ; 
such  a  home  would  be  a  mission.  Oh,  Francis,  what  a 
proud  girl  I  should  be  to  c  helpmeet,'  with  my  hands,  as 
your  mother  helped  your  father  I  " 


THE  POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS          223 

"  My  angel,  my  child  !  you  do  not  understand.  My 
mother  has  been  talking  to  you,  and  neither  does  she  un 
derstand." 

"  But  what  is  it  ?  How  else  can  you  look  at  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  such  a  dazzling  thing  as  you  see  it ;  still,  it 
were  enough  if  it  were  possible.  Difficulties  have  arisen 
that  my  father  knew  not  of,  or  if  he  did,  he  trusted  too 
much  —  " 

"  Perhaps  he  trusted,  as  David  said,  that  the  power 
springs  up  in  the  heart  if  we  do  not  give  way  to  the  '  rea 
sonings  of  the  earthly  spirit.'  ' 

44  David  should  be  the  last  to  gird  at  me  for  delay  when 
the  very  means  father  left  me  to  carry  out  his  command  — 
which  thrusts  me  out  —  must  go  to  save  David's  own  in 
heritance.  The  Greathead  estate  claims  our  mill-site,  which 
is  David's  share  of  the  property.  David  has  no  money  nor 
will  he  consent  to  a  lawsuit.  There  is  no  other  way  but 
to  purchase  the  title  over  again.  It  will  take  the  hundred 
and  fifty  pounds  father  left  me,  to  settle  this  claim  and 
others  they  put  forward.  David  is  like  many  of  the  spirit 
ually-minded  :  quite  ready  to  accept  worldly  assistance  and 
call  it  a  debt  to  providence.  Though,  I  ought  to  mention, 
he  would  give  me  a  mortgage  on  the  mill  property ;  not 
that  it  can  pay  interest  on  a  mortgage  of  that  size,  as 
David  will  run  it  —  and  support  him  and  his  family." 

"  But  David  has  no  family.  Is  he  going  to  be  married  ?" 

"  I  think  it  will  end  that  way ;  as  soon  as  he  can  settle 
with  himself  whether  his  '  concern '  to  preach  before  the 
New  York  meeting  be  a  true  call  of  the  Spirit  or  mixed 
with  a  personal  inclination  to  lay  his  state  of  mind  before 
Mercy  Titus." 


224  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  Oh,  Francis !  how  funny  you  are !  " 

u  Yes,  the  Friends  are  quaint,  when  they  are  dead  in 
earnest  as  David  is." 

"  But  he  is  wonderful !  Mercy  Titus  may  thank  her 
stars  if  she  gets  David." 

"  Oh !  she  has  him ;  she  winds  him  round  her  little 
finger.  I  doubt  not  she  is  advising  with  him  now  by  letter 
on  this  point,  which  he  thinks  he  hath  darkly  clothed  from 
her  in  the  language  of  religious  metaphor.  But  Mercy  un 
derstands.  He  will  decide  it  is  the  Spirit  calls ;  but  Friend 
Titus  will  ask  him  to  stay  with  them  while  he  is  in  the 
city,  and  all  will  be  well." 

"  They  will  make  a  perfect  pair.  Mercy  is  as  clever 
and  practical  —  " 

"As  David's  wife  would  need  to  be,"  said  Francis. 
"  David  has  a  mind  superior  to  details.  When  he  picks 
out  a  road,  he  sees  only  some  great  city  of  his  dreams 
shining  at  the  end.  He  does  not  measure  the  distance,  nor 
count  the  steps." 

"  But  is  n't  that  the  way  to  get  to  those  cities  ?  " 

"  Also  the  way  to  be  lost,  as  thousands  are,  and  those 
they  take  with  them  on  the  unknown  roads.  I  will  risk 
nothing  so  precious  as  this,"  said  Francis,  —  and  caught 
the  girl  to  his  breast,  — "  on  a  road  I  cannot  see.  We 
cannot  even  start,  you  know,  without  money,"  he  added 
on  a  drier  key.  "  We  cannot  walk,  thou  and  I,  to  the 
Genesee  valley." 

"  Is  that  where  it  is  ?  " 

"  Yes :  but  it  might  as  well  be  Canaan.  There  is  the 
Jordan,  my  darling,  and  I  will  not  lose  thee  in  the  cross 
ing!" 


THE   POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS  225 

Catherine's  blood  chilled  as  she  thought  of  a  certain 
river-crossing  on  a  night  of  defeat  and  surrender,  and  of 
one  who  crossed  alone  a  darker  stream.  She  was  not  sorry 
for  her  mother. 

"  That  is  not  the  way  life  is  lost,"  said  the  girl  of 
seventeen  ;  "  or  if  it  is,  I  give  tJiee  mine  to  lose." 

"  We  will  talk  of  that  life  one  of  these  days,"  said 
Francis  when  he  could  speak  again.  "  But  first  there  is  the 
obstacle.  It  completely  bars  the  way,  in  this  direction.  But 
there  are  others." 

"  Other  ways  to  start  in  life,  you  mean  ?  Aside  from 
this  your  father  laid  upon  you  ?  " 

"  Are  you  such  a  stickler  on  the  point  of  literal  obedi 
ence  to  fathers?  " 

"  It  would  depend  upon  the  father.  When  a  father  does 
his  son  the  honor  to  call  him  to  a  great  attempt,  for  no 
selfish  or  tyrannical  reason ;  gives  him  to  his  country's 
future,  to  humanity  itself,  I  should  spring  if  I  were  that 
son ! " 

Catherine  rose  and  Francis  stood  up  confronting  her. 
She  placed  her  hands  on  his  arms  to  keep  him  away  that 
she  might  look  at  him  without  confusion. 

"  I  suppose  you  will  laugh  at  me  if  I  say  I  believe  that 
before  we  talk  of  this  again  the  great  obstacle  will  have 
melted  away.  That  is  my  prophecy." 

"  I  should  not  feel  like  laughing  if  I  thought  I  should 
not  speak  to  you  again  before  that  happened  !  will  you  not 
come  again  soon  —  to  see  my  mother  ?  " 

"  Not  till  you  have  come  —  to  see  my  cousin." 

Catherine  rode  home  uneasy  in  her  mind.  She  thought 
of  Bassy,  her  great  old  Bassy,  whose  words  were  like 


226  THE   KOYAL  AMERICANS 

blocks  you  could  pile  one  upon  another,  and  his  deeds  as 
square  as  his  words ;  but  though  she  praised  Bassy  in  her 
soul,  a  subtle  consciousness  of  Francis  stole  through  her 
veins,  making  her  weak  with  memory  of  the  sight  of  him. 
Was  this  the  cup,  the  golden  cup,  wherein  are  sorceries 
and  witchcrafts  wherewith  the  glorious  appearance  of  things 
bewitcheth  people  and  maketh  them  drunk?  Catherine 
lived  in  an  age  when  young  girls  religiously  brought  up 
asked  themselves  such  questions  and  acted  upon  the  an 
swers  conscience  gave. 

"  Hist,  hist !  Mr.  David,  sor !  Cud  I  whishper  a  word 
to  ye?" 

"  Come  in,  Michael.  Come  into  the  house." 
•   "  Sor,  cud  I  ask  ye  come  out  ?  I  'm  spakin'  what  I  have 
to  say  to  ye  in  a  whishper."    Michael  suited  his  voice  to 
the  word.  "  It 's  the  quare  thing  on  me  entirely !  I  'm  wish 
ful  to  have  ye  know  it,  sor." 

David  went  out  to  the  horse-block  to  humor  Michael, 
the  hired  man,  without  much  interest  in  his  mystery.  He 
was  wondering  if  Francis  had  been  hurt  by  his  words, 
since  he  had  gone  off  by  himself,  not  joining  the  family  at 
dinner. 

"  Sor,"  said  Michael  hoarsely,  laying  his  hand  aside  his 
mouth  to  guard  the  sound  of  his  voice. 

"  Thee  may  omit  the  prefix  when  thee  speaks  to  me, 
Michael.  I  think  I  have  said  so  before." 

"  The  which,  sor  ?  " 

"  Thee  need  not  call  me  *  Mister '  or  *  Sir.'  I  am 
David,  or  Friend  Havergal,  to  all  and  sundry :  one  man 
being  the  same  as  another  to  the  Lord  who  made  us  all." 


THE   POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS  227 

"  Sure  the  Lord  is  not  ould  Michael !  Not  that  I  wud 
be  snatchin'  the  words  out  o'  your  mouth,  sor." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  David  hastily  as  he  saw  Michael  tak 
ing  breath  for  one  of  those  pauseless  Irish  monologues ; 
"  what  is  this  private  business  thee  has  with  me  ?  " 

"  Sor  —  I  mane  —  well^  sor !  I  had  me  directions  from 
the  missus  where  I  was  to  dig  the  ould  man's  grave,  on  a 
piece  o'  paper  all  dhrawed  out  that  Misther  Simeon  gev 
me,  an'  whin  I  come  to  the  spot  and  marked  off  me  ground, 
what  do  I  see  but  a  big,  murdherin'  stake  in  the  very 
middle  o'  the  grave  where  I  was  to  dig  it,  sor !  An'  how 
it  come  there,  an'  who  planted  it,  divil  a  wan  o'  me  cud 
tell.  An'  I  says  to  meself ,  wid  all  the  room  there  was  in 
it  and  not  one  of  the  family  laid  there,  why  would  n't  there 
be  space  the  widt  of  a  man's  body  alongside  to  the  west, 
sor  ?  An'  there  I  dug  it,  and  wint  away  for  the  new  ropes 
to  lower  the  coffin,  which  it  kep'  me  thrampin'  on  me  feet 
an'  I  was  n't  in  for  me  dinner  till  time  to  start  for  the 
buryin'-ground  to  lay  the  ropes  ready,  an'  a  big  storrum 
comin'  up.  I  says  4  Hannah,'  says  I,  '  give  me  my  tay 
and  give  it  me  strong,  for  I  have  broke  me  ordhers  an'  I 
don't  know  fwhat  I  am  doin','  says  I.  An'  she  says  4  fwhat 
have  ye  done,'  an'  I  tould  her. 

" '  Mercy  of  God,'  says  she,  4  but  you  have  broke  her 
heart  this  day !  Ye  have  put  the  ould  man  in  the  very  spot 
herself  was  to  lay  in  whin  her  time  come,  betwixt  him 
and  the  babe  she  has  waited  these  thirty  year  to  lay  be 
side  it.  Musha,  what  '11  it  do  to  her  whin  she  sees  it ! ' 

44  My  knees  was  as  wake  as  wather  whin  I  stud  back 
behind  the  threes  and  seen  the  Missus  at  the  head  o'  the 
grave  an'  her  sons  bearin'  her  up  and  the  little  childer 


228  THE  KOYAL  AMERICANS 

and  the  ould  Dutch  dominie  wid  his  head  uncovered  in 
the  dhrips ;  for  iviry  tree  was  weepin'  long  af ther  the  rain 
stopped.  An'  whin  ye  was  gone  an'  I  come  to  fill  up  the 
grave,  —  Mr.  David,  sor,  if  ye  '11  belave  me,  't  was  in  the 
verra  spot  she  laid  it  out  to  me,  for  I  measured  it  meself 
from  the  big  pine.  An'  I  looked  to  see  where  was  the 
stake  and  it  was  vanished  away ! 

"  Now  tell  me,  sor,  the  prayers  of  the  saints  on  earth 
don't  be  answered !  As  long  as  there  's  a  saint  in  heaven 
the  Missus  shall  not  go  wanting  the  wish  of  her  heart ; 
for  she  '11  nivir  ask  for  a  thing  in  this  wide  world  but 
Saint  Pether  himself  might  be  proud  to  give  it  her.  And 
no  inconvaynience  neither.  For  what  wud  it  be  to  him, 
tin  feet  this  way  or  that,  whin  it  made  all  that  differ  to 
her?  Now  let  them  say  that  mericles  is  dead  an'  done 
wid !  Answer  up  to  that !  " 

David  never  repeated  nor  alluded  to  this  conversation, 
which  was  all  the  sign  he  ever  gave  of  the  deep  impres 
sion  it  made  on  his  mind ;  and  as  Michael  was  the  only 
one  who  could  have  testified  that  the  grave  had  been 
moved,  his  belief  in  miracles  silenced  further  queries  on 
his  part. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

ENGLISH  manners  of  Colonel  Yelverton's  time  were 
more  nearly  related  to  that  robust  age  when  "  't  were 
unmannerly  to  take  thee  out  and  not  to  kiss  thee."  He 
would  have  deemed  it  unmannerly  not  only,  but  unkind, 
to  have  omitted  the  cheerful  morning  salute  at  breakfast 
when  Charlotte  greeted  him,  or  his  hearty  "  give  us  a 
kiss,  my  girl,"  for  good-night. 

But  the  omission  of  a  kiss  may  have  more  food  for 
reflection  in  it  than  the  kiss  itself.  So,  when  Charlotte 
spent  her  evenings  alone  more  and  more  on  one  pretext 
or  another,  and  slipped  up  to  her  attic  without  the  cere 
mony  of  bidding  good-night,  and  often  had  breakfasted 
and  gone  her  ways  before  him,  the  colonel  took  note  of 
the  change  and  found  it  disturbing  chiefly  because  it  was 
a  change.  If  they  had  begun  on  a  different  key  —  but 
Charlotte's  impulsive  demonstrativeness  had  been  very 
sweet  to  the  lonely  man  ;  no  pure-hearted  man  could  have 
rebuked  it.  He  saw  though,  with  content,  these  first  ex 
travagances  of  a  perfervid  gratitude  subsiding  into  or 
derly  habits  of  household  affection  expressed  at  proper 
times  and  seasons,  as  one  winds  the  clock  or  says  one's 
prayers. 

The  colonel  had  not  taken  up  the  custom  of  reading 
prayers,  but  decided  he  should  do  so  as  soon  as  Catherine 
came,  who  would  miss  it ;  but  he  prayed  on  his  knees  in 
his  own  room  every  night  for  his  child,  and  never  forgot 
the  other  child  whom  the  Lord  had  committed  to  his  care. 


230  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

Ignorant  shepherd  though  he  was,  and  unsure,  he  meant 
to  do  his  best. 

It  would  have  been  to  him  incredible  that  any  man  who 
could  shake  him  by  the  hand  and  take  wine  with  him 
would  go  aside  and  wag  his  head  and  say,  "If  a  man 
wants  to  keep  one  of  the  hussies  let  him  keep  her  and  be 
!  but  don't  let  him  call  her  his  daughter." 

But  this,  no  less,  was  what  John  McLean  had  in  mind 
when  he  advised  the  colonel  to  send  for  his  real  daugh 
ter. 

To  a  certain  extent  —  to  the  extent  of  calling  him  a 
meddlesome  old  fool  —  the  colonel,  as  we  have  seen,  took 
his  friend's  advice  seriously ;  but  he  was  not  equal  to 
imagining  anything  quite  as  bad  as  the  words  just  quoted, 
proceeding  from  the  very  men  who  were  supposed  to  know 
him  best :  the  Tory  squires  on  their  new  American  es 
tates  with  whom  almost  daily  he  drank  and  hunted  and 
played  cards.  And  while  they  commented  without  caring, 
and  lightly  condoned,  the  Puritans  next  door  heard  the 
story  and  believed  it  with  head-shakings  and  groanings, 
and  a  certain  triumph  in  the  state  of  Tory  morals,  and 
what  we  were  coming  to  if  these  British  ex-army  officers 
and  squirelings  set  up  their  old-world  standards  on  clean 
American  soil. 

So,  when  the  colonel  decided  to  take  McLean's  advice, 
it  was  not  for  the  same  reason  it  was  given  ;  he  simply 
felt  that  Charlotte's  state  of  mind  was  getting  beyond 
him ;  she  needed  another  young  woman  in  the  house,  and 
he  needed  his  daughter.  The  very  sight  of  Charlotte  day 
by  day  —  a  girl  yet  not  the  girl  —  kept  him  in  mind  of 
his  own. 


THE  POVERTY  OF  FEANCIS          231 

He  was  perfectly  aware  of  Charlotte's  outward  attrac 
tions.  Not  in  any  sense  was  he  immune  to  woman's  beauty 
and  woman's  charm  :  a  natural  lover,  a  natural  husband 
and  father,  it  is  a  pleasure  to  record  the  inner  history  of  a 
man  so  simple  and  straight-minded  as  the  colonel,  so 
reverent,  healthy,  and  sane ;  and  to  show  how  little  diffi 
culty  he  had  —  though  few  of  his  neighbors  would  believe 
it  —  in  guarding  the  thoughts  of  his  heart. 

To  resolve  was  to  act.  He  set  his  men  at  work  building 
the  annex  to  his  log  cabin  (although  it  did  delay  the 
progress  of  the  grand  mansion  on  the  hill).  He  would  not 
wait  a  week  longer ;  he  would  go  for  Catherine  at  once, 
and  the  new  room  should  be  finished  in  his  absence.  He 
and  Charlotte  spent  a  merry  day  unpacking  furniture  and 
rugs  and  bedding  to  make  his  old  room  into  a  lady's 
bower,  where  his  two  girls  should  sleep  together.  Char 
lotte  begged  stoutly  to  stay  in  her  cockloft,  that  Catherine 
might  not  be  intruded  on  —  "  not  till  she  knows  me  a 
little,"  she  demurred  wistfully.  Well  did  she  remember 
how  Catherine  as  a  child  had  shrunk  away  and  wept  that 
first  night,  when  her  little  wild  sister  claimed  her  for  a 
bed-fellow !  The  proud  sacrifice  was  not  understood,  nor 
was  it  acceptable  to  the  colonel.  He  knew  his  child. 
Catherine  would  never  rest  in  her  cool,  airy  chamber  down 
stairs  with  Charlotte  in  a  poke-hole  under  the  eaves. 

Charlotte  was  convinced  in  spite  of  herself  by  the  fa 
ther's  fresh  and  confident  knowledge  of  the  well-beloved. 
Her  nature  was  reflected  in  his  eyes,  his  smile,  whenever 
he  talked  of  her. 

"  If  thou  dost  not  love  my  Catherine  when  you  come  to 
live  together,  thou  wilt  be  the  first  one !  " 


232  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

He  clanked  about  in  his  riding-boots,  stepping  from  one 
floor-beam  to  another  of  his  new  quarters,  and  pointed  out 
to  Charlotte  smiling  from  the  door-frame  where  his  old 
soldier's  equipment  should  be  stowed,  where  his  swords 
were  to  be  hung  and  his  bearskins  spread. 

He  made  up  his  little  party  and  his  packs  for  the  jour 
ney,  and  rode  away,  calling  back  to  the  group  who  watched 
him :  — 

"  Be  ready  for  us  this  day  three  weeks  ;  I  shall  not  come 
back  alone." 

A  week  to  go,  a  week  to  return,  and  one  more  in  the 
middle  for  Catherine's  preparations.  They  were  the  happi 
est  three  weeks  of  Charlotte's  life.  She  had  at  first  a  great 
sense  of  rest  in  being  alone ;  she  wanted  to  do  nothing 
but  sit  and  think.  Much  as  she  loved  the  colonel,  his  pre 
sence  had  cruelly  oppressed  her  ever  since  she  overheard 
those  fatal  words.  Hardly  for  one  moment  now  was  she  at 
ease  with  him,  nor  could  feel  the  least  faith  or  pride  in  his 
show  of  affection  for  her.  "  I  am  well  enough  in  my  wa}r, 
but  not  in  his  way." 

How  was  it  going  to  be  with  Catherine  ?  In  this  direc 
tion  a  new  hope  had  sprung  up  ;  a  curious  belief  founded 
on  trifles  light  as  air  that  Catherine  this  time  would  not 
reject  her  nor  put  her  in  another  class.  How  well  she  re 
membered  the  wonderful  white  child,  her  eyes  full  of  light 
with  dark  lashes ;  her  lengths  of  soft  English  hair  rolled 
down  upon  her  shoulders,  nestling  in  her  neck ;  her  little 
mouth  too  tenderly  made  almost  to  be  even  kissed  ;  the 
"  soft  complexion  of  her  face."  That  they  should  lie  as 
two  sisters  side  by  side  in  that  stately  bed  as  beautiful  as 
Mistress  Polly's  (in  that  other  room  full  of  the  stings  and 


THE   POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS          233 

wounds  of  long  ago),  —  could  it  be  possible?  Charlotte 
had  sewed  all  the  long  seams  of  the  flowered  curtains  and 
dressed  the  canopy.  The  bed  was  made,  the  curtains  draped, 
the  room  was  sweet  with  flowers ;  rough  as  its  framework 
was,  it  looked  a  shrine. 

It  was  sunset  of  the  day  and  one  day  over ;  three  weeks 
ago  the  colonel  rode  away.  She  stood  in  the  door  looking 
eastward  toward  the  wall  of  forest,  breezeless,  clothed  in 
level  radiance  from  the  great  valley  open  to  the  west ;  and 
again  her  prophets  helped  her  to  unburden  her  soul  of  its 
great  hope,  its  fear,  and  its  rejoicing. 

" 4  The  gate  of  the  inner  court  that  looketh  toward  the 
east  shall  be  shut  the  six  working  days  ;  but  on  the  seventh 
it  shall  be  opened,  and  in  the  day  of  the  new  moon  it  shall 
be  opened. 

" '  And  the  prince  shall  enter  by  the  way  of  the  porch 
of  that  gate  — '" 

She  stepped  out  to  see  if  there  were  a  new  moon  actually 
in  the  west ;  and  behold  it  was  there,  sinking  in  a  sky  that 
blushed  a  pure  rose  and  faded  upward  in  the  zenith's  blue. 

Turning  back  she  saw  the  colonel  ride  out  of  the  woods, 
and  he  was  not  alone.  But  Catherine  was  not  with  him. 
It  was  only  a  man  who  rode  at  his  right  hand.  Neither 
smiled  ;  the  colonel  forced  himself  to,  on  seeing  her,  but 
there  was  nothing  comforting  in  his  smile.  He  looked  very 
tired  and  rather  old.  The  other  man  was  young ;  he  jumped 
off  first  and  offered  some  help  to  his  companion,  who  pushed 
him  away  laughing. 

"  Charlotte,  this  is  Mr.  Dunbar.  No,  Catherine  has  not 
come  ;  not  this  time,  my  girl.  Hast  been  well  ?  —  thou  art 
pale.  Been  working  too  hard,  I  'm  afraid." 


234  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

The  colonel  passed  the  door  of  Catherine's  room  hastily, 
and  led  Bassy  into  his  own  big,  echoing  barrack. 

"  Let  us  have  something  to  eat,  my  lass,  and  be  quick 
about  it!  " 

The  colonel  had  not  offered  to  kiss  her  this  time ;  for 
so  much  at  least  she  was  thankful. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

WHEN  Bassy  came  to  think  it  over,  he  could  see  no  good 
reason  for  intruding  the  details  of  how  his  grandfather's  will 
was  recovered  upon  the  sensitiveness  of  the  Quaker  family. 
He  himself  was  sensitive  on  the  subject  of  his  errand  that 
morning  in  the  graveyard.  It  would  make  a  gruesome  bit 
of  gossip,  both  for  the  family  and  for  him,  if  it  should  get 
about.  In  short,  as  no  questions  were  asked,  he  volunteered 
no  explanations. 

But  it  was  common  property  by  now  that  he  was  the 
acknowledged  heir  of  the  Greathead  estate ;  that  he  had 
compromised  a  threatened  lawsuit  with  claimants  of  the 
legitimate  line,  the  terms  of  the  compromise  giving  him 
all  lands  in  dispute  for  thrice  the  number  of  acres  in 
forest;  and  he  was  known  to  be  settling  all  conflicting 
claims  on  the  singular  basis  of  doing  as  he  would  be 
done  by. 

It  was  boyish ;  it  was  not  law  nor  business ;  it  puzzled 
and  worried  some  of  the  old  neighbors  who  had  looked 
forward  to  a  fine  upsetting.  There  were  a  even  few  who 
suspected  that  all  was  not  yet  known  !  but  on  the  whole 
could  any  fault  be  found  with  that  way  of  interpreting  jus 
tice? 

The  resident  parson  of  New  Paltz  church  preached  a 
sermon  on  the  text  Ezekiel  xlvi,  18 :  "  Moreover  the 
prince  shall  not  take  of  the  people's  inheritance  by  oppres 
sion  to  thrust  them  out." 

The  literally-minded  saw  not  how  the  word  prince  could 


236  THE   KOYAL   AMERICANS 

apply  to  the  son  of  Isaac  Dunbar  (and  by  reading  on  a 
little  farther  in  the  same  verse  one  could  see  it  did  not  fit)  ; 
still  there  was  as  much  interest  and  enthusiasm  aroused 
by  young  Dunbar 's  action  as  could  be  expected  in  haying- 
time. 

Yet  while  the  village  buzzed,  the  Havergals,  whom  it 
profited  more  than  any,  were  proudly  silent.  Ann  Haver- 
gal  to  be  sure  had  written  her  thanks  and  her  son's  thanks 
to  Bassy,  on  receipt,  through  his  lawyers,  of  a  deed  of  gift 
to  a  part  of  her  husband's  estate.  That  it  was  not  easy  to 
thank  a  stranger  for  the  right  to  live  rent-free  in  the  home 
of  a  lifetime  she  could  not  conceal.  It  was  a  delicate  let 
ter,  shrinkingly  just ;  it  served  to  increase  Bassy 's  reluc 
tance  to  open  any  phase  of  the  subject  again. 

Days  passed  and  Francis  did  not  come.  It  was  too  late 
for  him  to  come  now  as  Catherine  had  looked  for  him  — 
the  first  to  tell  her  the  way  was  open  before  them,  since 
David's  inheritance  was  free. 

The  sterner  virtues  had  been  hard  worked  in  many  gen 
erations  of  Havergals.  In  the  children  of  Jonathan,  the 
blood  of  saints  and  martyrs  showed  fitful  tendencies,  as  a 
stream  far  from  its  fountains  spreads  and  checks  and 
gathers  volume  again  for  an  occasional  burst  of  its  original 
impetus :  In  Edwin,  a  prosperous  worldling,  it  took  on 
flesh  and  made  money ;  in  Simeon,  who  was  virtuous,  it 
failed  for  want  of  imagination ;  in  David  it  found  wings 
of  poetry  rather  than  power,  but  it  rose  from  the  earth ;  in 
Francis,  most  highly  endowed  of  them  all,  it  grew  suddenly 
tired.  His  clear  and  critical  mind  grasped  every  possibility 
of  failure  in  any  proposed  line  of  action,  and  his  despond 
ency  argued  for  ninety-nine  chances  of  it  as  against  one  of 


THE  POVERTY   OF  FRANCIS          237 

success.  Intense  pride  and  over-sensitiveness  robbed  him 
of  courage,  which  always  must  imply  the  power  to  stop 
thinking  when  the  time  for  action  comes.  Francis  could 
not  stop  inquiring:  and  "the  man  who  waits  to  know 
everything  before  he  decides,  never  decides !  " 

He  wished  to  understand  all  the  problems  of  life  before 
he  would  trust  himself  to  live ;  regarding  himself  as  the 
greatest  and  most  hopeless  of  them,  he  thought  very  con 
stantly  and  desperately  about  himself,  and  the  more  he 
thought  the  less  he  knew. 

Here  in  this  peaceful  Quaker  farmhouse  in  the  heart 
of  the  haying  season  was  one  of  youth's  tragedies.  The 
mother  saw  it  and  lost  her  strength  in  thinking  of  it. 
David  could  not  understand  what  it  was  gave  Francis 
pause,  but  preached  no  more  sermons  at  his  brother.  Sim 
eon  saw  that  he  grew  white  and  thin,  and  did  double  work 
in  the  fields  himself  to  spare  the  youngest  to  think  out  his 
path  alone. 

The  dominie  had  brought  his  chair  out  from  the  study 
into  the  hall  for  the  sake  of  a  draft.  Front  and  back 
doors  stood  open.  Catherine  seated  on  the  lowest  step  of 
the  stairs  picked  over  gooseberries,  "  top-and-tailing  "  them 
and  rubbing  off  the  mildew  —  a  task  she  did  not  like.  It 
was  too  early  for  the  dominie  to  water  his  garden  this  hot 
day.  He  thought  of  his  young  lettuces,  sympathizing  in  his 
own  condition  with  their  eagerness  for  the  coming  shade. 

"  Listen  to  this  !  "  He  had  been  reading  the  "  Pennsyl 
vania  Gazette,"  but  laid  it  down.  "  Why,  surely  that  is 
Francis  Havergal !  "  his  smile  of  welcome  brightening  as 
the  young  man  came  up  the  steps. 


238  THE   EOYAL  AMERICANS 

Catherine  fled  with  her  gooseberries  for  the  sake  of 
slipping  up  the  back  way  to  recover  her  neckerchief, 
which  she  had  flung  on  the  bed  in  the  feverish  heat  of 
noon.  She  tucked  it  in,  looking  at  herself  in  the  swing- 
glass,  at  her  pale  face  and  parted  lips. 

"  I  can't  go  down.  What  will  become  of  me  !  " 

She  was  quite  sure  her  cousin  would  read  her  secret 
with  his  first  look. 

The  dominie  did  not  look  at  her  at  all.  He  was  con 
sidering  the  face  of  the  young  man  seated  opposite:  as  a 
son  of  Jonathan  Havergal  it  was  an  amazing  departure 
from  the  breed  of  long  upper-lips,  jutting  brows,  and  hol 
low  temples  —  from  the  square  to  the  linear  curve. 

"  How  very  good  of  you  to  come  this  frightful  hot  day !  " 
said  Catherine  breathlessly,  covering  up  in  words  the 
dangerous  meeting  of  their  eyes.  "  I  hope  your  mother  is 
well?" 

Francis  gave  her  his  chair  in  ailence,  and  directed  by 
the  dominie  fetched  himself  another  from  the  study;  a 
fortunate  diversion  of  chair-legs  rapping  on  bare  boards 
ensued;  Catherine,  in  the  midst,  overtaken  by  a  fit  of 
weak  laughter  that  sent  her  away  to  the  stairs  to  recover. 
Francis  remained  perfectly  grave  and  pale. 

The  dominie  suggested  tea,  which  helped  out  still  more 
the  flight  of  the  guilty  innocent  on  the  stairs.  She  ran  to 
order  it  and  stayed  to  escort  it  back,  brought  by  Gulie, 
very  cross,  in  an  apron  none  too  clean  (Jane  having  gone 
to  pick  gooseberries  and  taking  an  unwarrantable  time 
about  it). 

It  was  "  Labrador  tea,"  the  cousin  saying  mischievously 
as  she  gave  him  his  cup  that  Catherine  pretended  she  did 


THE  POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS          239 

not  like  it  but  would  have  to  drink  that  or  none  in  his 
house. 

Francis  observed,  without  interest  in  the  subject,  that 
he  had  never  tasted  Labrador  tea  nor  any  of  the  new  substi 
tutes  drunk  by  the  patriots.  His  brother  Edwin  supplied 
them  from  New  York. 

The  topic  was  dropped  as  likely  to  bring  out  differences. 

"  I  was  about  to  read  to  Catherine,"  said  the  dominie, 
adjusting  his  spectacles,  "  a  thing  reported  from  the  Ohio 
frontier ;  a  grievous  matter.  It  shows  how  the  old  wars 
began,  as  the  Quakers  have  always  claimed,"  he  nodded 
at  Francis ;  "  and  how  new  wars  may  yet  crop  up  if  we 
forget  what  is  due  from  every  Christian  nation  to  a  people 
it  hath  conquered  by  the  sword.  This  is  the  peacemakers' 
opportunity ;  no  greater,  I  think,  can  ever  occur  in  our 
history.  As  the  wars  have  been  long  and  their  causes  deep- 
laid  for  generations,  so  deep  should  the  furrow  be  set  for 
the  seed  of  friendship  to  be  sown,  and  wise  must  be  the 
hands  that  sow ;  not  only  in  mercy  to  these  doomed  tribes, 
but  for  the  safety  of  our  own  generations  to  come.  And 
now  listen  to  this  !  " 

He  read  a  contemporaneous  account  of  the  murder  of 
an  old  chief,  Bald  Eagle,  or  Corn  Cutter,  perhaps.  There 
were  too  many  such  "  unfortunate  incidents  "  on  the  fron 
tier  for  names  to  be  conspicuous. 

"An  old  man  sitting  in  his  canoe  paddling  home  after 
a  friendly  visit  to  the  settlement,  —  shot  in  the  back,  and 
scalped  !  The  incredible  madness  of  it !  A  chief's  body 
floating  down  the  river,  scalped.  It  is  the  signal  for  war. 
The  white  man's  excuse?  Some  Indians  in  a  drunken 
quarrel  had  murdered  a  relative.  He  murders  therefor 


240  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

the  first  Indian  he  meets  who  has  no  chance  for  his  life. 
Does  not  even  claim  this  man  to  have  been  the  one  who 
injured  him.  Now,  for  another  decade  in  that  region,  a 
vengeance  is  prepared  by  day  and  night  that  shall  fall 
upon  the  innocent.  And  yet  we  leave  the  white  occupation 
of  this  most  critical  part  of  our  great  possessions  to  the 
land-agent,  the  skin-peddler,  and  the  rumseller!  Where 
are  the  young  men  from  our  godly  homes?  The  cities 
take  them,  and  the  old  homes  keep  them  back  to  grow  rich 
faster  than  a  man  can  on  his  own  wild  acres.  The  young 
men  in  these  days  expect  to  begin  where  their  fathers  left 
off.  Prudence,  conservation,  is  the  order,  of  the  day. — 
Catherine,  my  dear,  this  tea  is  very  hot," 

Catherine  sprang  up ;  she  left  her  distant  seat  and  took 
one  on  the  floor  beside  her  cousin  and  kissed  the  back  of 
his  hand  that  lay  on  the  large  purple  handkerchief  spread 
upon  his  knee. 

"  'T  is  not  the  tea,  my  cousin  !  it  is  thy  own  dear  blessed 
heart  that  is  hot." 

"  Do  you  speak  of  the  young  men  with  families,  sir  ? 
Where  vengeance  is  prepared  in  the  memories  of  the  sav 
ages,  would  that  be  a  place  for  women  and  children  ?  " 

"  Such  risks,  considering  the  vast  extent  of  our  border, 
are  not  great  in  proportion,  and  they  must  be  taken.  Yes, 
I  say,  the  spinning-wheel  and  the  Bible  should  go  along 
with  the  axe  and  the  plough.  Women  do  not  forget  their 
Bible ;  its  teachings  are  easier  followed  in  a  home  than 
in  camps  and  forts.  We  are  getting  rid  of  the  forts; 
still,  they  regulated  trade.  Now  I  fear  there  will  be  great 
abuses :  wrongs  of  the  kind  an  Indian  never  forgets.  Our 
good  men  should  go;  they  must  be  represented  on  the 


THE  POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS          241 

frontier.  If  the  old  fighters  are  too  old,  let  each  one  spare 
a  son.  At  every  hearth  where  the  fire  shines  broad  and 
clear,  there  should  one  arise  and  light  his  torch  and  run 
with  that  message  into  the  dark  outside,  to  light  a  fresh 
hearth  in  the  wilderness,  an  altar  for  the  Spirit  of  Christ 
to  abide  with.  It  is  not  the  great  grantees  we  need ;  capi 
tal  does  not  spread  these  homes  I  am  thinking  of,  that 
shall  be  the  hope  of  our  future.  It  is  hands  and  hearts  and 
brains  fed  on  the  principles  our  forefathers  came  here  to 
implant.  I  say  it  who  am  old  and  have  no  son.  If  I  had 
one,  I  should  give  him  a  wife,  an  axe,  and  a  gun  —  to  shoot 
wolves,  not  men  —  and  send  him  forth  to  make  his  own 
home  and  defend  its  purity  as  the  ark  of  God's  covenant. 

"  Well,  well ! "  said  the  preacher,  in  the  silence  that 
followed,  "  that  sermon  might  have  waited !  Catherine, 
take  a  look  out  and  see  if  the  shadow  is  over  the  garden, 
my  dear.  I  left  my  watch  with  my  waistcoat.  I  trust  none 
will  be  offended  that  I  sit  without  one,  this  exceeding 
warm  day  ?  " 

The  shadow  being  right  for  watering,  the  good  man 
went  forth  on  his  garden  rounds,  having  somewhat  del 
uged  the  young  plants  beside  him  with  the  plenteous  out 
pourings  of  his  spirit.  One  of  them  arose  and  sparkled 
and  shook  her  leaves  as  it  were ;  but  one  was  too  far  gone 
to  revive.  Francis  was  quenched,  flattened,  driven  into 
the  ground  by  this  latest  message  to  the  Laodiceans. 

"  That  would  have  hurt  you  very  much,  a  little  while 
ago,"  Catherine  ventured  after  a  long  silence  in  which 
nothing  expected  transpired ;  Francis  remaining  seated,  his 
hands  driven  into  his  pockets,  his  gaze  on  the  trees  outside. 

"  I  have  not  forgotten  how  you  feel  about  it,"  said  Fran- 


242  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

cis.  "Also  —  a  prophecy  that  you  made  —  "  He  paused 
again.  "  Did  you  know  —  was  it  a  prophecy,  or  —  " 

"  Did  I  know  ?  "  she  repeated,  impatient  of  the  sense 
less  talk  between  them ;  "  of  course  I  have  known  for 
some  days  that  the  '  great  obstacle '  was  removed.  That 
your  money  is  your  own  now  —  oh,  how  one  good  deed 
helps  another ! " 

"  How  his  deed  opens  the  way  for  my  great  mission  to 
the  Border  ?  "  said  Francis,  avoiding  Bassy's  name. 

"  It  is  so  simple  to  do  right,  yet  it  leads  so  far !  How 
different  all  would  be,  if  Bassy  had  taken  the  word  inher 
itance  to  mean  possession  only." 

But  Francis  was  struggling  in  one  of  those  insignificant 
webs  of  circumstance  in  which  a  jealous  mind  enwinds 
itself  to  the  destruction  of  a  better  insight.  There  was 
nothing  to  pin  to,  but  everything  to  entangle  and  obscure. 

"  How  long  have  you  known  —  you  spoke  of  '  some 
days ';  did  you  know  when  you  prophesied  of  the  obstacle 
that  it  would  melt  away  before  we  spoke  of  it  again  —  did 
you  know  at  that  time  that  to  all  intents  and  purposes 
even  then  it  was  removed  ?  " 

Catherine  recoiled  indignant  at  the  question,  so  care 
fully  worded  as  to  leave  no  escape  for  one  disposed  to 
quibble.  She  became  hot  and  answered  recklessly,  having 
nothing  of  her  own  to  hide :  — 

"  I  should  not  have  said  i  some  days.'  I  did  know,  of 
course,  when  I  prophesied  your  freedom.  I  suppose  I 
should  not  have  hinted  at  a  thing  I  was  not  then  at  lib 
erty  to  speak  of." 

"  Is  it  a  «  matter  of  course  '  "  —  Francis  fell  upon  the  un 
lucky  word  for  the  second  time  —  "  that  you  should  be  in 


THE   POVERTY   OF  FRANCIS          243 

advance  of  every  one  else  in  knowledge  of  Dunbar's  inten 
tions?  Possibly  it  was  you  who  persuaded  him  to  let  the 
Havergals  off?" 

"  Francis !  I  have  no  answer  to  such  a  speech  as  that. 
If  it  were  worthy  of  you  or  me,  it  is  unworthy  of  Bassy 
Dunbar,  who  is  quite  able  to  make  up  his  mind.  My  cousin 
is  his  confidant  in  this  affair.  He  came  to  see  him  about 
it  —  that  day  —  of  the  funeral,  when  cousin  was  gone. 
He  had  a  message  to  leave  which  he  —  that  far  confided 
in  me,  and  —  yes ;  I  should  not  say  that  far.  He  did  tell 
me  the  whole  story  —  to  explain,  I  think,  why  he  was 
obliged  to  keep  back  —  Am  I  to  tell  you  all  this,  Francis  ? 
What  is  it  you  wish  to  know?" 

"  I  don't  know  how  much  there  is  to  '  keep  back/  It 
has  seemed  a  little  strange,  I  confess,  that  you  have  never 
alluded  in  any  way  to  that  long  colloquy  beside  my  father's 
grave." 

"  Because  we  quarreled   the   first   time  we  spoke  of 


"  Is  that  the  only  reason  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Catherine  desperately.  "  If  you  will  have 
it !  but  I  shall  hurt  you  very  much.  I  shall  have  to  go 
back  to  that  night  at  Kingston  when  your  mother  could 
not  sleep.  She  could  not  keep  from  talking  —  all  about 
the  little  sister  you  lost.  It  came  all  back.  This  was  how 
I  knew  where  to  look  for  the  little  grave.  I  looked  that 
morning  the  first  thing,  to  put  some  of  my  roses.  And  it 
was  so  close !  " 

"  So  close !  "  repeated  Francis  gently.  He  had  taken  her 
hands  and  held  them,  watching  her  look  of  distress  and  her 
increasing  color. 


244  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

"  Yes ;  there  was  no  room.  Between  the  little  grave  and 
Ais,  your  father's.  She  had  said  that  she  wanted  to  lie  be 
tween  them,  and  there  was  no  room."  Catherine  swallowed 
hard  and  went  on.  "  I  said  so,  out  loud,  and  Bassy  heard 
me ;  he  saw  what  a  mistake  had  been  made." 

"  I  don't  understand  a  word  you  are  saying,  Catherine. 
I  have  been  there  since.  There  is  plenty  of  room." 

"  But  surely,  you  know  that  the  grave  had  to  be 
moved !  " 

"  My  father's  grave  !  By  whom  ?  " 

Catherine  looked  at  him  in  consternation.  "Why,  I 
thought,"  she  said  dazedly,  —  "I  was  sure  I  understood 
Bassy  to  say  he  would  speak  of  it  himself,  —  he  would 
'  explain  to  the  sons.'  " 

She  quoted  unconsciously,  trying  to  recall  Bassy's  words. 

"  Pray  excuse  me  if  I  have  stumbled  on  another  of 
your  mutual  confidences.  You  should  come  to  a  better  un 
derstanding  what  to  explain  and  what  to  keep  from  4  the 
sons ; '  and  which  is  to  do  it." 

"  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  his  speaking  or  not  speak 
ing.  What  we  are  talking  about  is  a  pure  fatality.  Per 
haps  I  should  not  have  spoke  before  him  of  your  mother's 
wish ;  but  it  came  before  I  thought  and  he  heard,  and  felt 
it  just  as  I  did.  Nor  could  I  help  hearing  him  say  the 
change  could  be  made,  and  that  he  would  do  it  himself. 
It  happened  —  that  was  all !  " 

"  You  mean  that  Dunbar,  happened  to  go  into  a  pri 
vate  burial-place  and  change  the  location  of  a  new-made 
grave,  without  consulting  the  family  and  with  no  one's 
knowledge  of  the  affair  but  yours  ?  Is  that  your  idea  of  a 
fatality?  And  you  have  known  this  ever  since  ?  " 


THE   POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS          245 

"  You  would  make  a  good  lawyer,  Francis,  but  I  am 
not  a  good  witness  on  my  own  side." 

"  Is  your  side  the  side  of  Basset  Dunbar,  in  this  case  ?  " 

"  When  you  speak  to  me  like  that,  I  think  I  must  be 
going  mad !  —  Pray  let  me  pass !  " 

Catherine  had  spoken  the  last  words  very  low.  She  was 
utterly  ashamed  of  this  ignoble  quarrel,  and  every  word 
connected  with  it  was  a  form  of  desecration,  stepping  as 
they  were  on  the  resting-places  of  the  dead  and  misjudging 
the  living  with  a  baseness  of  inference  shocking  to  her  as 
coming  from  Francis.  Yet  even  stupid  little  Catherine, 
though  the  symptoms  were  new  to  her,  recognized  the  bane 
of  love,  love's  jealousy  —  peculiar  to  that  unsure  stage  of 
the  experience  where  Francis  halted  now.  She  saw  who 
the  real  sufferer  was,  and  she  could  not  leave  him  to  his 
torment  without  one  relenting  word. 

"  Oh,  why  must  I  hurt  you  so  ?  "  she  looked  back  to  say. 
"  Yet  if  I  stay  I  might  hurt  you  more.  I  don't  know  what 
has  come  over  us!  " 

From  her  window  she  saw  him  go  down  the  path.  There 
seemed  some  unusual  stoppage  at  the  gate.  Francis  stepped 
to  one  side,  meeting  a  new  arrival,  passed  on,  and  there 
was  her  father ! 

Francis  had  not  removed  his  hat,  which  might  have  at 
tracted  the  colonel's  notice,  or  it  might  well  have  been  the 
wearer's  person.  He  turned  for  a  second  look  at  the  young 
man's  back.  Catherine  hesitated  no  longer. 

There  was  nothing  wanting  to  the  first  few  moments  of 
their  meeting;  and  then  the  colonel  shot  his  bolt. 

"  Dost  think  I  shall  wait  till  fall,  eh  ?  How  long  will 


246  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

it  take  thee  to  pack  thy  saddle-bags  and  be  ready  to  ride 
with  me  ?  " 

She  did  not  leap  upon  him  and  strangle  him  around 
the  neck,  or  otherwise  maltreat  him.  She  did  not  laugh 
aloud  and  sparkle  at  him  with  her  lovely  eyes  in  his :  no 
such  thing  at  all.  She  forced  a  sort  of  smile,  turned  red 
and  then  pale,  and  gave  a  little  gasp  meant  to  be  merry  ; 
and  what  she  said  does  not  matter,  for  he  did  not  hear  it, 
he  was  so  confounded  by  her  face. 

Having  thus  blurted  it  out,  he  fought  shy  of  his  errand 
for  the  remainder  of  the  evening,  watching  his  child  and 
asking  himself,  "  Is  she  changed  or  am  I  grown  foolish?  " 
was  she  glad  in  him  as  of  old  ?  was  she  glad  about  any 
thing  as  she  used  to  be  when  they  two  were  together  in 
England  planning  a  runaway  ? 

The  dominie  told  the  story  of  Bassy's  inheritance  and 
what  he  was  doing  with  it  (and  that  did  not  touch  her, 
for  he  watched  and  was  satisfied).  The  colonel  declared 
that  Bassy  was  a  monstrous  swell,  a  prince,  and  behaved 
as  such.  The  finest  thing  he  had  ever  heard.  Quite  care 
less  of  his  own  rank  inconsistency ;  for  had  he  not  backed 
up  McLean  and  his  friends  —  just  because  it  was  McLean 
—  who  were  doing  the  very  opposite ! 

He  followed  with  his  own  tale  of  how  he  had  rescued 
Charlotte  from  the  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing  :  not  much  of 
a  wolf,  to  be  sure,  only  a  thieving  jackal ;  and  how  hard 
her  life  had  been,  and  how  unspoiled  it  had  left  her.  He 
tried  to  describe  Charlotte's  looks,  urged  by  Catherine, 
and  did  not  succeed  ;  but  Catherine  hardly  listened.  She 
was  being  pulled  two  ways.  There  was  danger  of  losing 
Francis  forever  if  she  turned  her  back  on  him  now  — 


THE  POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS          247 

whereas  a  father  can  wait.  Fathers  can  be  hurt,  but  they 
forgive  and  they  are  not  jealous.  This  was  Catherine's 
theory  of  fathers  under  provocation,  for  which  the  cap 
tain  was  responsible;  so  why  should  he  complain?  But 
never  in  her  life  had  she  deceived  him. 

They  were  left  to  themselves  next  morning,  and  without 
preamble  he  took  her  by  the  hands,  looked  down  into  her 
eyes  and  said,  "  My  girl  is  not  glad  to  go  with  me.  I 
have  n't  asked,  but  I  know.  Now,  what  is  it  ?  Is  it  a 
lover?" 

And  Catherine  could  no  more  have  said  "  no  "  than  she 
could  have  struck  him  in  the  face. 

"  Is  it  the  lad  I  met,  coming  down  the  walk  ?  " 

She  faintly  said  it  was.  He  took  a  chair  and  drew  her 
down  on  his  knee.  "  What  is  that  hat  he  wears,  and 
does  n't  take  off  to  a  man  of  my  make  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  Quaker.  That  is  — " 

"A  Quaker?  A  Quaker!  God-a-mercy!  Where  did 
you  pick  him  up  ?  " 

"  Pray  for  us,  daddy  dear,  but  do  not  think  to  part  me 
from  him,  for  I  love  him.  Though  we  have  quarreled 
hideously  this  day,  and  I  tortured  him  and  drove  him  half 
mad,  and  he  did  me." 

"  A  Quaker !  —  and  so  you  can  quarrel  ?  That 's  some 
thing.  There  is  life  in  that.  But  what 's  to  come  of  it  ? 
Nobody  marries  a  Quaker  —  a  Quaker  manf" 

"  I  shall  marry  Francis  if  he  will  marry  me." 

"  If  !  —  Gracious  Powers  !  Is  it  for  him  to  say  whether 
he  will  or  no  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  is  to  happen  next,  I  really  don't. 
I  only  know  he  loves  me  and  is  miserable  this  moment.  If 


248  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

he  comes  back  to  me  I  must  be  here  to  hold  out  my  hand. 
I  cannot  go  with  my  old  dearest  now,  unless  he  would  have 
me  lose  the  happiness  of  my  life." 

"  But  what 's  to  come  of  it  ?  Who  is  he  ?  What  is  his 
rearing  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  son  of  Jonathan  Havergal,  who  was  a  farmer 
down  the  valley  — " 

"  What !  the  old  Quaker  I  bought  Melissa  from  — 
who  would  n't  pay  his  war-tax  ?  And  so  thou  'It  go  and 
stick  thy  head  in  a  haystack,  and  that 's  all  it  comes  to 
—  having  a  daughter !  I  won't  say  what  kind  of  a  daugh 
ter  ;  but  I  'd  have  sworn  the  best  man  in  the  Colonies,  or 
England  either,  would  have  the  deuce  of  a  time  to  get 
thee,  and  here  a  Quaker  boy  has  but  to  twinkle  his  finger  I 
And  't  is  done." 

Catherine  drew  a  long,  tremulous  sigh.  "  That  does  n't 
explain  it,  father.  Nothing  does.  I  understand  it  no  more 
myself.  But,  as  you  say,  it  is  done.  Would  you  wish  me 
to  be  untrue  to  him  ?  " 

"  Well,  well !  Fix  up  your  quarrel  against  I  come  back 
from  the  city,  and  then  we  '11  away  to  the  mountains  and 
think  it  over ;  and  we  shall  see." 

"  But  it  is  done,  father.  We  have  to  think  ahead,  not 
back.  And  behind  this  silly  quarrel  is  an  impasse  —  I 
cannot  very  well  speak  of  it  —  it  is  a  family  matter ;  but 
much  is  at  stake,  and  if  I  can  help  him  in  this  decision, 
or  support  him  in  it,  I  must  be  here.  He  is  not  one  you 
can  help  much  if  you  are  away  from  him." 

"  It  has  gone  deep  into  thee,  my  lambkin  !  Thou  hast 
had  sleepless  nights." 

"  No,  but  sleepless  days,"  laughed  Catherine  tremulously, 


THE  POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS          249 

"  and  long  ones.  There  may  be  more  to  come  ;  but  I  have 
chosen  my  own  way  of  being  wretched,  like  the  rest  of  us 
who  are  really  alive." 

"  There  's  truth  in  that.  But  seventeen 's  too  young  to 
have  learnt  it.  And  thou,  who  refused  the  heir  of  Little- 
dene!" 

"  Don't  be  paltry,  colonel :  the  heir  of  Littledene  is  a 
boor,  a  brute,  to  my  Francis.  He  comes  of  as  good  blood 
as  any  in  England,  and  shows  it.  Did  my  father  look  at 
him?" 

Her  father  put  her  down. 

"  Thou  art  bewitched ;  but  we  all  go  the  same  way,  — 
our  own  way  to  disappointment.  I  cannot  think  this  is  the 
right  road  for  any  of  us.  There,  there,  I  will  not  tease 
thee  more,"  for  Catherine  was  beginning  to  break  down. 
"  What  is  thy  father  good  for  but  to  look  on  and  pay  for 
thy  whim-whams  !  " 

"  Once  by  death,"  thought  the  colonel,  "  and  twice  by  " 
what  he  called  "  the  faithlessness  of  a  woman's  mind," 
his  plans  were  in  ruins,  his  cup  dashed  to  the  ground. 
What  was  it  all  but  illusion  anyway?  "Let  her  marry 
her  Quaker  farmer  ;  and  I  will  go  finish  my  part  in  this 
mockery  called  life  by  some  makeshift  of  my  own." 

They  had  not  thought  of  mentioning  Charlotte  as  a 
companion  and  comforter  in  lieu  of  an  own  child.  Cather 
ine  did  think  of  her  after  a  while,  but  failed  to  make  her 
seem  real.  The  colonel  remembered  her  as  a  lonely  young 
thing  in  a  lonesome  place,  and  spent  more  money  in  New 
York  than  he  could  afford  on  a  foolish  fine-lady  wardrobe, 
a  Tompion  watch,  and  a  four-wheeled  chaise,  to  make  up  for 
not  bringing  her  back  a  sister ;  also  to  atone  in  outward 


250  THE   EOYAL   AMEKICANS 

things  for  the  poor  imitation  of  a  father  he  found  himself 
to  be.  No,  he  could  not  love  the  girl.  He  had  done  his  best. 
Even  less  he  loved  the  thought  of  living  on  with  her  alone 
in  the  big  mansion  on  the  hill,  with  all  its  joys  that  might 
have  been,  thrown  back  in  his  face.  Life  was  a  mockery, 
to  be  sure ! 

Catherine  had  no  need  to  entreat  for  his  silence.  He 
was  not  so  vain  of  his  future  son-in-law  that  he  would 
be  likely  to  brag  of  him.  It  had  best  be  hushed  up,  the 
closer  the  better ;  God  grant  it  might  die  out !  But  he 
did  not  think  it. 

At  the  last  post-house  before  taking  into  the  woods  he 
came  upon  Dunbar,  also  going  in  to  look  after  that  little 
bunch  of  land  next  door  which  the  colonel  thought  of 
buying.  Bassy  did  not  care  to  sell ;  but  before  they  slept 
that  night  a  bargain  was  made  between  them,  for  Bassy 
to  manage  the  Yelverton  estate  and  make  a  third  at  the 
colonel's  table. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

STEPNEY  MOUNT  and  Red  Oaks  were  the  Tory  estates 
within  visiting  distance  of  Yelverton.  But  if  Yelverton 
supped  at  Red  Oaks  or  the  Mount,  Yelverton  stayed  over 
night.  The  colonel  had  seen  little  of  the  ladies  at  these 
houses  (the  homes  of  Colonel  Stepney  and  Mr.  Guy  Has 
tings),  though  he  had  sat  at  their  well-spread  tables,  and 
slept  in  their  new  guest-chambers  and  met  gay  company 
from  Albany  and  New  York.  He  did  not  think  it  strange 
that  Red  Oaks  and  the  Mount  did  not  call  upon  Charlotte 
or  include  her  in  their  invitations  to  himself,  simply  because 
he  had  not  got  so  far  as  to  think  of  the  subject  at  all. 

The  weeks  slipped  by.  He  was  anxious  and  preoccupied 
with  matters  farther  off,  but  closer  to  his  heart.  His  little 
Catherine's  strange  bolt  into  the  arms  of  the  Quakers !  It 
looked  to  him  worse  and  worse  ;  and  the  harder  it  grew  to 
bear,  the  more  he  realized  that  the  girl  was  in  earnest  and 
no  longer  a  child. 

Squire  McLean's  family  were  in  England,  himself  in 
hot  water  with  his  neighbors  of  the  Hampshire  Grants  ;  — 
but  the  major's  quarrels  do  not  come  into  this  story  ex 
cept  as  they  influenced  public  opinion  on  the  Whig  side 
against  every  man  who  was  his  friend.  This  included  Yel 
verton,  whose  manners  were  haughty,  and  who  kept  himself 
aloof. 

Charlotte  never  mentioned  what  happened  on  a  day 
when  she  drove  to  Bennington  village  in  the  four-wheeled 
chaise  (by  the  colonel's  command;  indeed  in  her  new 


252  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

finery  she  looked  not  very  fit  for  walking).  She  had  left 
the  chaise  while  she  did  errands  which  took  her  into  the 
store.  Coming  out  she  found  herself  in  a  group  of  the 
border  farmers,  clear-eyed,  hard-featured  men,  who  had 
ridden  up  and  dismounted  while  she  was  within.  They 
made  way  for  her  in  silence,  not  offering  to  move  one  of 
their  horses  that  had  swung  round  in  front  of  the  steps.  To 
avoid  the  beast  she  crossed  a  puddle,  lifting  her  skirts  and 
showing  perhaps  a  few  inches  of  ankle  in  a  maroon  silk 
stocking  with  silver  clocks.  The  wind  filled  her  green 
paduasoy  coat  and  puffed  it  about  her,  making  its  lustre 
conspicuous  in  the  sunlight.  With  her  hands  in  lilac 
gloves,  she  ordered  her  plumage  as  best  she  could,  being 
unused  to  it. 

"  French  wanton !  "  she  heard  a  deep  voice  say. 

Looking  back  as  a  startled  child  would,  her  eyes  met  the 
stern  blue  eyes  of  one  of  those  farmers  who  held  her  gaze 
while  he  added  :  — 

"  The  French  wanton  rides  in  her  painted  coach  while 
honest  women  walk." 

"  Coaches  from  London  for  —  "  another  began  to  say. 

She  had  still  a  few  steps  before  her.  (Shy  of  her  new 
splendor  she  had  stopped  the  chaise  a  little  distance  off.) 
As  she  hurried  forward  a  small  boy  packed  a  mud  ball 
which  hit  her  in  the  back  of  her  neck ;  a  second  threw  a 
stone  that  struck  a  wet  spot  and  spattered  her  silk  coats. 

Colonel  Yelverton's  new  groom,  acting  as  coachman, 
grinned.  This  she  saw,  too,  glancing  up  at  him  for  help, 
though  he  straightened  his  face  before  leaning  to  open  the 
door. 

He  closed  it  and  sat  still,  awaiting  her  order.  The  little 


THE  POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS  253 

boys  climbed  up  behind  and  jiggled  the  springs.  The  horses 
began  to  caper. 

"  Home,  madam  ?  "  the  man  turned  to  ask,  touching 
his  hat. 

Charlotte  did  not  answer.  He  smiled  to  himself,  being 
but  a  lackey,  and  drove  on. 

"  I  do  not  want  to  stay  here,"  she  said  that  evening  to 
the  colonel. 

The  colonel's  big  room,  with  its  bearskin  couch  at  the 
far  end,  was  the  sitting-room.  Bassy  Dunbar  used  his  desk, 
and  they  ate  their  meals  there,  all  three.  Bassy,  having  en 
tered  on  his  double  duties,  had  set  up  a  tent  on  the  wood- 
slope  by  the  cabin  —  that  slope  down  which  Charlotte  had 
danced  in  the  moonlight,  chanting  from  the  prophets. 

"  I  do  not  want  to  stay  here  doing  nothing.  I  can  spin, 
both  wool  and  flax.  I  can  sew  a  little,  too,  and  I  have  cooked. 
Will  you  write  to  Madam  Schuyler  and  ask  if  she  knows 
any  family  that  would  take  me  to  live  with  them  for  what 
I  can  do  about  the  house  ?  " 

"  You  cannot  go  out  to  work,  my  girl !  You  are  my 
daughter,  legally  adopted.  Your  name  is  in  my  will,  equal 
with  my  Catherine,  but  that  I  have  left  your  money  in  trust. 
Dominie  Deyo  will  advise  you;  and  by  the  time  he  is  gone 
I  hope  you  will  have  a  good  husband  —  " 

"  I  do  not  want  all  that ;  not  any  of  it.  Though  I  know 
you  are  good,"  sighed  Charlotte.  "  I  am  not  Catherine's 
sister.  If  I  were,  I  should  not  want  her  money.  I  have  taken 
her  bedroom !  " 

"  She  will  have  a  handsomer  one,  and  you  one  beside 
her  in  the  new  house." 

"  I  do  not  want  to  go  there.  I  want  to  go  away.  Some 


254  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

one  said,"  she  added  softly,  moving  her  hand  across  her  lap 
and  not  looking  at  the  colonel,  "  that  she  does  not  come 
because  I  am  here." 

"What!  Who  said  that?" 

"  Nobody,  much." 

«  But  who  ?  " 

44  Only  Mimi :  what  she  says,  some  others  think,  perhaps. 
That  is  all.  " 

"  What  in  the  world  could  Catherine  have  against  you  ?  " 

"  What  did  Polly  have  against  me  ?  Did  I  ever  do  her 
any  harm?  I  called  her  names  sometimes,  not  very  bad  ones. 
But  I  don't  want  to  see  Catherine  now.  It  is  too  late. 
I  want  to  go  away." 

"  We  '11  see  about  it,  we  '11  see  about  it,"  said  the 
colonel  with  a  quick,  hard  sigh. 

"  This  world  is  a  beastly  place,"  he  fumed  after  Char 
lotte  was  gone.  But  it  was  n't  the  world.  The  world  has 
its  own  business  to  attend  to  and  does  it  in  its  own  way, 
which  can  only  be  a  worldly  way.  There  was  something 
fundamentally  wrong,  and  the  colonel  was  beginning  at  last 
to  acknowledge  it  —  to  himself. 

Since  Catherine  would  not  help  him  out,  perhaps  Bassy 
would. 

The  next  day  he  found  a  chance  to  observe  with  fine 
carelessness,  — 

"  Where  are  you  going  to  build  your  house  ?  " 

"  I  thought  you  were  to  leave  me  this  house  when  you 
move  into  the  mansion  ?  " 

"  This  is  well  enough  for  a  bachelor,  but  you  '11  be  marry 
ing  one  of  these  days.  Going  to  build  up  here  beside  me, 
or  down  on  your  Wallkill  lands  ?  " 


THE   POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS          255 

Bassy  smiled.  "  I  think  I  '11  wait  till  I  am  married  and 
ask  my  wife." 

"  That 's  pat  enough,"  the  colonel  answered,  pleased  at 
Bassy's  approachability.  "  But  when  will  that  be  ?  " 

"  That 's  for  the  lady  to  say,  when  I  have  asked  her." 

"  If  I  were  your  age  I  'd  not  sit  long  at  this  table  where 
you  do,  without  making  up  my  mind  to  ask  her."  They  were 
still  at  the  supper  board,  Charlotte  having  left  her  place 
opposite  Bassy  and  gone  into  her  own  room.  The  colonel 
lowered  his  voice,  glancing  at  her  empty  chair.  "  What 
you  see  sitting  there  every  day  would  help  most  men,  I  say, 
to  make  up  their  minds." 

Bassy  rose,  knocked  the  ashes  from  his  pipe  and  turned 
to  face  the  colonel ;  if  he  spoke  on  a  subject  at  all,  he  was 
usually  so  definite  as  not  to  be  misunderstood. 

"  I  have  no  more  idea  of  marrying  Charlotte  than  you 
have,  sir.  If  I  were  to  sit  opposite  her  forty  years,  I 
should  never  think  of  her  in  that  way ;  no  more  than  you 
would." 

"  Why,  man,  I  am  forty  myself.  I  have  loved  before  — 
and  I  have  my  Catherine." 

"  And  I  have  my  wishes,"  said  Bassy.  "  A  man  who  is 
untrue  to  his  great  wish  would  be  untrue  to  the  thing,  if  it 
came  to  pass." 

"  I  had  wishes  of  my  own  once,"  said  the  colonel  mus 
ing,  "  but  somebody  was  mistaken,  it  seems." 

44  Why  does  not  your  daughter  come  ?  She  is  what  Char 
lotte  needs." 

"  Aye,  —  my  daughter !  Well,  she  is  tangled  up  in  a 
mistake  of  her  own ;  and  so  it  goes." 

"  I  don't  think  this  is  a  good  place  for  Charlotte  —  not 


256  THE   EOYAL   AMERICANS 

as  we  are  now,"  said  Bassy.  "  It  does  n't  seem  a  natural 
life  for  her." 

"  That 's  why  I  hoped  some  good  man  would  want  her  for 
his  wife." 

"  There  would  be  no  hurry  about  that  if  she  had  some 
thing  to  do,  where  she  could  be  with  other  women." 

"  It 's  not  my  fault  that  we  are  two  men  without  a  girl 
for  her  to  play  with.  This  is  all  the  home  I  have.  She  has 
no  other  father.  I  took  her  years  ago,  and  vowed  never  to 
forsake  her.  She  was  lost  and  found  again,  and  she  asked 
me  to  take  her  home.  I  wanted  a  wife,  but  the  fates  said 
otherwise.  I  have  a  daughter,  and  there  too  I  must  forego" 
—  The  colonel  checked  himself.  "Don't  think  it  is  my 
Catherine's  fault." 

Bassy  was  one  of  those  who  ask  no  questions,  to  whom 
things  are  revealed  without.  He  could  not  be  sure,  —  yet  he 
had  no  right  to  ask !  But  as  he  looked  at  the  colonel  the 
blood  went  out  of  his  brown  face  completely  and  then  came 
back  and  dyed  it  crimson,  with  the  imaginary  blow.  If  it 
had  been  the  real  one,  how  then  ?  We  have  more  strength 
to  meet  the  real,  often,  than  the  thing  which  warns  us  with 
its  pang  of  foreboding. 

"  I  shall  make  one  more  trial,"  said  the  colonel.  "  I  shall 
make  one  final  test  of  the  situation  here,  and  then  we  shall 
see ! " 

The  colonel's  final  test  took  shape  in  his  mind  as  what 
he  called  a  house-warming ;  an  entertainment  to  his  friends 
of  the  neighboring  estates,  to  open  his  new  house  and  intro 
duce  the  new  daughter  whom  fate  had  assigned  him  as  its 
mistress. 

If  Jack  McLean  had  got  hold  of  this  idea  in  time, 


THE   POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS          257 

there  would  have  been  very  little  left  of  it  when  he  got 
through. 

Bassy  was  helpful  but  not  sympathetic.  It  certainly  bored 
him  to  buy  a  new  ash-colored  velvet  suit  with  accessories, 
which  stood  him  in  twenty  pounds,  to  meet  these  fine  folk 
who  had  never  craved  his  company  in  homespun. 

Unfortunately  the  colonel,  embarrassed  by  his  failure 
to  bring  the  daughter  he  had  set  out  to  fetch  with  such 
eclat,  had  said,  "  She  will  be  coming  when  the  house  is 
ready." 

She  had  half  promised,  and  he  had  half  believed  she 
might.  Her  letters  since  had  not  encouraged  him. 

The  neighbors  noted  his  way  of  shifting  the  subject  when 
ever  they  inquired  about  Catherine. 

"When  the  mansion  opens  its  doors,"  they  were  saying, 
"  either  Miss  Catherine  Yelverton  will  join  her  father  at 
last,  or  she  will  not.  In  the  latter  event 't  will  show  pretty 
conclusively  that  some  of  us  were  right !  " 

Therefore,  when  formal  invitations  in  the  name  of  Colo 
nel  and  Miss  Yelverton  were  received  at  Stepney  Mount 
and  at  Red  Oaks,  there  was  relief  and  pleasure  in  the  pros 
pect  of  having  the  lovely  girl  from  England  whom  all  were 
praising  added  to  their  small  circle. 

The  cards  were  sent  a  week  ahead  of  the  date.  On  the 
day  following,  men  servants  from  both  estates  rode  over 
with  the  acceptances.  Madam  Stepney's  contained  a  bomb. 

"  Sir  John  and  Lady  Johnson  will  be  with  us  on  the  fif 
teenth.  Will  Colonel  Yelverton  be  kind  enough  to  extend 
the  honor  of  his  invitation  to  our  guests? " 


CHAPTER  XXX 

FEW  women  as  young  as  Catherine  know  how  to  be  silent, 
though  misunderstood  by  those  they  love.  As  Francis  did 
nothing  and  said  nothing,  she  wrote  herself,  and  said  all 
that  could  be  said  to  show  how  inevitable  her  share  had 
been  in  Bassy's  (also  inevitable)  offense  against  the  sanc 
tities  of  family  burial. 

She  quite  covered  the  ground,  even  including  Bassy's 
little  deception  at  first,  forced  upon  him  by  the  peculiar 
nature  of  his  business  at  the  grave,  compelling  the  expla 
nation  afterward  which  any  honest  nature  would  crave. 

Francis  replied  in  a  letter  that  to  her  seemed  stony; 
not  that  he  was  stony  when  he  wrote  it  —  far  from  it ! 
but  having  said  that  he  understood  and  had  nothing  to 
forgive,  there  remained  the  worm  of  jealousy. 

The  worm  devoured  him  in  secret.  It  was  not  an  active, 
aggressive  worm.  It  slept  a  good  deal  of  the  time ;  at 
others  it  simply  wormed.  Bassy  had  done  a  thing,  placing 
the  Quaker  family  thereby  under  a  life  obligation  (and 
Quakers  do  not  like  to  be  in  debt),  which  Catherine 
would  be  sure  to  admire  beyond  measure,  while  he  was 
compelled  to  do  that  which  he  knew  she  would  fail  to 
comprehend.  The  plan  lay  deep  in  his  secretive  mind,  as 
sluggish  as  the  worm.  To  go  to  her  would  be  to  have  it 
dragged  out  of  him  by  the  spell  of  her  irresistible  power 
over  his  moods,  and  to  be  despised  for  the  nature  of  the 
thing  he  had  been  hiding. 

It  was  now  about  the  last  of  September  and  there  had 


THE  POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS          259 

been  a  great  rain.  Half  the  leaves  of  the  cherry  trees 
were  on  the  ground ;  windrows  of  them,  "  yellow  and 
brown  and  hectic  red,"  covered  the  frosted  violet  beds 
along  the  garden  fence. 

Melissa  trod  sedately  on  a  carpet  of  Eastern  dyes,  car 
rying  her  rider  down  the  lane.  She  was  allowed  to  choose 
her  own  direction,  and  after  a  short  gallop  she  turned  of 
her  own  accord  into  a  piece  of  woodland  —  oaks  of  the 
second  growth  and  young  birches  —  where  the  same  soft 
carpet  rustled  under  foot. 

Beyond  the  wood  a  few  miles  of  common  road  stretched 
away  in  open  sunlight ;  then  came  the  long  ridge  sloping 
toward  the  east,  on  which  Catherine  sat  with  Francis  that 
day  in  the  wheat-field. 

"  No  farther  than  the  wood,"  she  said,  and  drew  rein  to 
make  the  leafy  path  last  longer. 

Melissa's  ears  pricked  forward;  she  nickered,  and  a 
horse  that  stood  waiting  for  his  rider  backed  around  to 
greet  her.  On  the  roadside  bank  just  beyond  sat  Francis 
Havergal. 

As  Catherine  placed  her  hands  on  his  shoulders  and 
leaned  down  to  him,  the  sweet  languor  in  her  eyes  told 
him  it  was  not  the  help  of  his  arms  she  needed.  For  a 
moment  she  gave  herself  to  him,  then  the  long  silence  of 
choking  hearts ;  but  speech,  terrible,  definite  words  were 
still  to  come. 

"  Shall  we  go  back  to  the  house,  now  ?  "  said  Cather 
ine. 

"  No,  stay  here  with  me  as  long  as  you  can.  —  It  must 
be  got  over  with,"  he  said,  after  another  silence.  "  I  am 
come  to  say  farewell." 


260  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

"  Francis !  Francis  !  —  without  me  !  That  you  know  is 
what  I  cannot  bear." 

"  But  Catherine,  I  cannot  take  you  to  the  city." 

"  To  the  —  I  don't  understand." 

"  You  did  not  think  I  should  be  starting  for  the  Gene- 
see  valley  in  September !  It  would  take  a  month  to  get 
there.  The  winters  are  harder  than  our  own." 

"  Then  what  —  then  where  do  you  go  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  doing  a  deal  of  thinking  this  summer." 

"  Have  been  !  " 

The  words  startled  her.  So,  the  summer  was  gone  !  The 
first  summer  of  his  ordeal  and  of  their  love,  —  gone  in  think 
ing  !  Nothing  done,  only  she  had  broken  her  promise  to 
Francis  and  not  told  him  of  it.  She  hesitated,  proudly,  to 
let  him  know  that  she  had  committed  him  to  her  father ; 
announced  herself  his  before  he  had  claimed  her  of  that 
bewildered  man  whose  ideas  of  love  and  marriage  were  as 
simple  as  her  own. 

"  I  have  been  making  lists  and  estimates ;  talking  to 
Simeon  about  the  outfit  I  should  need  —  "he  did  not  say 
"  shall  need  "  or  "  we,"  Catherine  noticed.  "  As  to  prices, 
everything  is,  you  know,  far  higher  than  in  father's  time. 
I  have  consulted  Edwin  ;  so  I  am  satisfied  my  figures  are 
pretty  near  correct.  I  shall  leave  the  paper  with  you, 
Catherine,  that  you  may  see  I  have  put  down  only  necessa 
ries,  and  of  course  food  to  last  till  the  first  crops  can  be 
harvested.  "  It  comes  to  this,  as  Edwin  says :  —  one 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  is  not  near  enough.  When  all  is 
reckoned  up,  our  margin  would  be  hardly  twenty  pounds  — 
all  we  should  have  to  fall  back  upon." 

"  We  should  have  ourselves." 


THE  POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS          261 

"  There  it  is  again !  Edwin  thinks  it  would  be  arrant 
selfishness  to  take  you  with  me  if  I  went  in  this  way." 

i"  Has  Edwin  asked  his  wife  what  she  thinks  ?  You  heard 
what  my  cousin  said?"  Catherine  flushed  as  she  remem 
bered. 

44  But  that  is  martyrdom !  You  have  no  conception,  dear 
est,  what  the  life  is  of  a  settler's  wife.  I  have  seen  my  own 
mother  in  our  house  doing  what  I  hope  never  to  see  my  — 
wife  do  in  mine." 

"  Your  mother  !  "  said  Catherine.  "  As  I  looked  at  her 
that  Sunday  morning,  sitting  there  with  her  little  grand 
child  in  her  arms,  —  oh  !  I  said  to  myself,  4  blessed  art 
thou  among  women  ! '  The  woman  who  would  shrink  from 
being  that,  cannot  be  worthy  of  the  name.  And  how  did 
she  come  to  be  that?  By  taking  care  of  herself  all  her 
life  ?  By  waiting  till  things  were  easy  ?  I  may  be  a  poor 
creature,  but  I  know  I  can  learn ;  so  can  we  both.  The 
thing  is  to  begin,  to  put  ourselves  in  the  way  of  learning. 
If  a  father  says  to  a  son,  whom  he  has  chosen  for  the  post 
of  honor,  —  if  he  says, '  Go  !  and  God  be  with  thee  ! '  can 
the  son  refuse  ?  It  is  not  your  father  and  his  son.  It  is  the 
call  to  the  sons  of  our  generation  from  the  fathers  and 
mothers  who  broke  the  way  before  us." 

"  And  marked  it  with  their  graves,"  said  Francis. 
"  Who  goes  to  the  front  must  go  prepared.  He  is  not  sent 
to  fall  by  the  wayside,  or  lie  down  and  die  at  his  post." 

"  We  can  lie  down  and  die  anywhere,"  said  Catherine. 
"  And  we  can  fall  by  the  way  without  going  far.  I  would 
not  stop  here  at  any  rate." 

14  It  is  difficult  to  make  you  understand.  You  walk  on 
the  hilltops,  you  fly  !  and  I  walk  on  the  roads.  Angels  of 


262  THE  KOYAL  AMERICANS 

course  with  wings  do  not  need  them.  If  we  are  to  keep 
together —  " 

"  One  must  come  down  or  the  other  come  up  ?  Ah,  do 
not  mock  me  !  I  have  no  wings  —  not  even  clipped  ones," 
said  Catherine.  "  Tell  me  about  your  roads." 

"  My  winged  girl !  My  angel !  If  I  wanted  a  battle-song 
or  a  sermon,  I  should  come  to  thee  or  go  to  David.  But 
when  it 's  how  I  shall  take  care  of  thee,  for  better,  for 
worse,  and  what  I  can  do  it  on,  I  —  don't  go  to  David, 
and  it 's  not  fair  to  go  to  thee.  I  am  the  beast  of  burden  ; 
still  my  hide  is  not  so  thick  but  I  can  feel  the  sting  of 
such  words  as  I  have  listened  to.  If  love  alone  could  settle 
the  question,  —  or  frantic  longing,  —  would  it  be  possible 
for  me  to  have  thee  too  soon  ?  " 

"  That  is  not  the  point,"  said  Catherine  faintly. 

But  she  had  blown  her  trumpet  on  the  hilltops.  Her 
heart  very  strongly  inclined  her  to  listen  to  her  lover's 
tale  of  the  valley  and  the  common  road ;  surely  he  spoke 
well,  arguing  from  so  unpopular  a  side  as  that  of  prudence. 

"  I  shall  not  shirk  the  post,  but  I  must  take  my  own 
time  and  go  in  my  own  way.  Father  himself  was  a  man 
near  forty  before  he  put  forth  —  and  I  am  but  two-and- 
twenty.  In  four  years  or  five,  I  shall  be  —  " 

"  Four  years !  "  gasped  Catherine.  "  Is  that  what  you 
call  —  "  She  checked  herself.  "  Well ! "  she  sighed. 

He  resumed,  but  with  more  hesitation. 

"  If  I  go  into  business  with  Edwin  as  he  advises,  my 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  will  very  likely  be  thrice  that 
in  four  years  or  five.  By  that  time  —  " 

"The  Genessee  valley  will  be  a  settled  neighborhood 
and  the  post  of  honor  a  thousand  miles  farther  on." 


THE  POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS          263 

"By  that  time,"  Francis  deliberated;  there  was  tick 
lish  ground  ahead  but  his  conscience  was  clear ;  "  you  will 
then  have  come  into  your  legacy  in  England.  I  should  have 
the  comfort  of  knowing  you  had  that  to  fall  back  on.  Surely 
you  can  realize  how  a  man  must  feel  who  takes  a  girl's 
life  in  his  hands  !  Suppose  he  turns  out  a  failure,  or  should 
die  and  leave  her  —  " 

"  I  see,"  said  Catherine  with  a  sick  little  smile.  "You  are 
afraid  to  marry  me  without  I  have  a  fortune ;  one  of  my 
own  or  one  you  have  made  for  me.  Do  we  need  money  so 
much  ?  or  is  it  safety  ?  Well,  it  is  a  pity  I  did  not  know 
what  was  in  your  mind.  All  I  told  my  father  was  that  we 
loved  each  other." 

"  Have  you  told  your  father  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  put  his  finger  on  the  truth,  first  thing.  I  could 
not  lie  to  him ;  so  I  broke  my  promise  to  you.  I  never 
tried  before,  but  it  seems  I  am  unable  to  keep  things  from 
my  father." 

"  It  can  make  no  difference,"  said  Francis.  "  If  it  had 
been  an  engagement,  of  course —  You  see  why  I  was 
afraid  to  ask  it?" 

"  You  mean  it  has  been  no  engagement  thus  far,  and 
now  you  give  me  up  ?  "  Catherine  was  fearfully  lucid. 

"  It  was  an  engagement  between  ourselves,  but  if  I  can 
not  do  my  part  I  must  give  you  up.  I  could  not  hold  you, 
for  so  long  —  that  would  be  unfair  to  you.  I  suppose  your 
father  will  not  speak  of  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he  will  not  speak  of  it.  He  is  not  proud  of 
it !  " 

She  paused  and  repented  of  this,  but  went  on,  reckless 
with  the  shock  of  this  unimaginable  pain,  and  the  sense  of 


264  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

her  own  strange  position  —  urging  her  lover  on  the  way 
men  lead  and  young  girls  follow. 

"  You  say  you  do  not  mean  to  hold  me.  Pray  how  do 
you  intend  to  set  me  free?  Shall  I  forget  you  to-morrow 
or  the  next  day  ?  Shall  you  be  free  —  next  week,  say,  or 
when  you  get  to  the  city  ?  " 

"It  would  be  worse  than  useless,"  Francis  persisted, 
faithful  to  his  testimony  under  the  lash  of  her  words,  "  it 
would  be  dishonest  for  me  to  profess  the  part  in  life  you 
would  have  me  take.  I  am  not  cut  out  for  a  hero,  or  a  torch- 
bearer,  or  a  pioneer,  in  your  sense  of  the  word." 

"  Do  I  ask  so  much  of  you  ?  "  The  girl's  pride  would 
have  released  him  from  herself,  but  she  could  not  spare 
him  from  his  post  of  duty.  "  Your  father  asked  as  much : 
he  knew  you  better  than  I ;  he  must  have  put  great  thought 
into  that  last  command.  May  he  not  have  seen  you  were 
inclined  to  hang  back  from  responsibility,  and  given  you 
this  spur  to  help  you  decide  —  and  to  show  his  own  faith 
in  you  ?  It  sickens  me  to  have  you  refuse  it." 

"  I  am  not  refusing  it.  All  my  own  plans  point  that  way, 
as  I  explained  —  only  more  slowly  in  order  to  be  more 
sure." 

"  But  no  one  can  be  sure  of  succeeding.  We  can  do  no 
more  than  make  the  start.  Suppose  you  put  a  horse  at  a 
ditch  and  he  swerves  and  trots  down  the  bank  to  where  he 
can  walk  across  —  would  that  be  taking  the  ditch  or 
refusing  it  ?  " 

"  You  bring  me  to  the  very  point  I  stick  at,  although  I 
hate  to  say  so.  Is  it  a  father's  right  to  use  the  power  of 
the  dead  over  the  living  to  goad  his  son  into  a  step  contrary 
to  his  nature  and  capacity  ?  " 


THE  POVERTY   OF  FRANCIS          265 

"  Ah  !  if  your  father's  great  hope  and  trust  in  you  mean 
no  more  than  a  goad  —  Francis !  then  indeed  you  may  as 
well  fail  in  one  way  as  another.  I  would  not  go  with  you 
myself  in  that  grudging  way,  even  had  you  asked  me,  which 
you  are  so  careful  not  to  do !  Four  years  !  Is  it  likely  I  shall 
sit  here  waiting  with  my  love  in  my  hand —  which  you 
asked  and  took  and  now  give  me  back  —  to  keep  for  you  ! 
Love  does  not  keep  like  gold.  It  makes  cowards  of  those 
who  hoard,  for  those  who  are  afraid  to  spend  !  " 

"  You  do  not  love  me,  then,  as  I  am.  You  consider  me  a 
coward?" 

"No,  a  miser  —  of  yourself.  You  withhold  yourself  from 
life.  Are  we  put  here  to  save  our  lives  or  live  them  ? 
No :  my  hand  shall  not  lie  in  yours  unless  my  soul  can 
rest  in  your  soul  and  be  proud !  If  our  minds  fly  apart, 
of  what  use  to  join  the  hands  ?  " 

Francis  did  not  remind  her  that  he  had  already  relin 
quished  hers. 

"  This  problem  has  been  sprung  upon  us.  It  was  not  so 
at  the  first,"  he  pleaded. 

"Yes,  from  the  very  first.  From  the  moment  you 
asked  me  not  to  tell  my  father.  I  did  not  know  what 
it  was  cut  me  so ;  I  see  now  it  was  your  doubt,  even 
then." 

"  Of  myself,  for  your  sake.  To  spare  you  what  I  have 
seen  women  suffer  in  my  own  home  —  my  own  mother,  if 
it  must  be  said." 

"  What  do  you  think  a  woman  is  ?  Does  nothing  hurt 
us  but  to  be  sick  and  tired  ?  Would  you  put  me  up  on 
the  shelf  till  you  have  time  to  play  with  me  ?  And  what 
am  I  to  do,  meanwhile?  You  refuse  me  the  right  to  earn 


266  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

my  happiness  as  you  must  earn  yours.  Such  love  as  ours 
must  not  be  made  too  easy." 

"Easy!"  said  the  bewildered  boy,  so  racked  in  his 
senses  as  to  be  unable  to  follow  her  words.  "  Do  you  think 
this  is  easy  for  me  ?  —  easy  to  renounce  you  ?  " 

"You  need  not.  But  you  must  be  more  to  me  —  or 
nothing." 

"  I  cannot  be  more  than  I  am." 

"  More  than  you  are!  Does  any  one  stop  there?  If  you 
do,  then  stop  alone.  I  am  ashamed  of  my  love  for  a  man 
who  gives  me  nothing  but  his  fear." 

These  young  persons  had  brains ;  they  used  the  lan 
guage  of  a  time  when  even  well-bred  persons  did  not  con 
ceal  their  feelings.  They  seem  to  have  gone  over  all  the 
ground  of  the  spiritual  differences  between  them ;  there 
was  no  road  which  their  separate  souls  could  take  together. 
Yet  how  do  Nature's  lovers  part?  The  same  blind  long 
ing  taught  them  to  seek  in  each  other's  arms  a  cure  for 
the  pain  each  must  cause  the  other.  As  well  may  the  east 
bank  of  the  Hudson  say  to  the  west  bank,  4  Let  there  be 
dry  land  between  us ! '  What  shall  become  of  all  the 
sweet  mountain-rivers  and  the  deep-sea  tides ! 

"  This  terrible  throbbing,  here !  "  Catherine's  head  was 
on  her  lover's  breast;  she  could  feel  the  checked  tides 
pounding  where  he  held  her  strained  against  his  heart. 

Very  terrible  is  the  force  of  the  Quaker  negative  when 
it  meets  the  affirmative  of  youth  and  womanhood  in  the 
veins  of  a  girl  like  Catherine,  whose  fathers  wore  the  scar 
let  and  the  blue.  The  shock  may  be  likened  to  when  the 
North  River  freshets  in  spring  meet  the  ice-jam  in  the 
narrow  hills ;  — only  in  that  case  the  ice  goes  out  and  the 


THE  POVERTY  OF  FRANCIS          267 

great  river  flows  clear,  mingling  its  fresh  floods  and  its 
salt  tides,  to  the  sea. 

There  were  letters  back  and  forth,  a  few.  There  was 
heaving  and  shuddering  of  the  ice,  but  the  tides  sobbed 
back  again.  There  was  no  give  in  the  nature  of  Francis. 


BOOK  V 

THE  WINE  IS  DRUNK 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

FROM  September  winds  in  the  valley  of  the  Wallkill, 
we  go  north  to  October  gales  in  the  Green  Mountains.  A 
boisterous  night  filled  with  elemental  mirth ;  a  night  to 
believe  in  trolls.  The  wind,  tumbling  up  along  the  slopes 
of  the  mountains,  came  against  a  wayfarer  in  great  lumps, 
like  fists  of  silly  giants  pommeling  him  in  fun.  The  stars 
above  the  cleared  spaces  of  woodland  fairly  jumped  and 
rollicked  in  the  sky.  They  shared  in  the  universal,  mon 
strous  laughter  that  convulsed  the  night. 

Over  those  great  hills  the  petty  homes  of  men  lighted 
their  candles  and  went  on  with  their  own  mockeries  and 
laughter  of  fools  at  their  own  destruction.  There  was 
mockery  in  the  soul  of  that  sane  but  stricken  boy,  Bassy 
Dunbar ;  for  since  morning  he  had  lost  more  than  the 
woman  he  loved ;  he  had  parted  with  his  dream,  that  set 
her  so  high  above  him  that  to  endeavor  each  day  to  live 
as  the  man  should  live  who  might  one  day  win  her  had 
been  his  religion. 

The  colonel  had  been  watching  him  since  that  evening 
when  he  said,  "  I  have  my  wishes." 

"  Bassy  ought  to  know.  He  '11  never  speak  of  it  but  he 
ought  to  know !  It 's  unfair  not  to  tell  him,"  the  captain 
decided. 

So,  on  the  morning  of  the  great  entertainment,  as  they 
were  walking  over  the  house  and  its  approaches  inspect 
ing  torches  and  garlands,  how  they  were  secured  against 
the  promise  of  a  big  wind,  Colonel  Yelverton  said:  — 


272  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  We  shall  be  hanging  up  wreaths  for  my  daughter's 
wedding,  one  of  these  days,  I  'm  afraid,  [this  was  his  way 
of  preparing  a  man  for  a  blow !]  if  the  Quaker  bride 
groom  do  not  set  his  face  against  anything  so  worldly.  We 
can't  have  any  dancing,  of  course." 

The  hit  was  too  palpable  to  hide,  even  had  Bassy  cared 
to  attempt  it ;  he  walked  away  to  the  window  and  looked 
out ;  they  were  in  the  entrance  hall  where  the  staircase 
went  up,  dividing  into  a  corridor  round  three  sides  above, 
in  front  of  the  bedrooms.  The  colonel  took  a  chair  by  the 
fire  and  sat  rubbing  his  knees. 

"  Shut  the  door,  can't  you  !  "  he  shouted.  "  Ashes  all 
over  the  place! " 

The  door  was  shut.  Bassy  went  back  to  his  window. 

"  Best  get  it  over,"  thought  the  colonel.  His  idea  was 
that  he  had  not  told  anything  yet. 

"  Yes ;  "  he  mourned  aloud,  "  she  and  that  Quaker  boy 
have  been  in  love  with  each  other  since  ever  they  came 
up  the  river  on  a  sloop,  last  June.  Fate,  fate !  If  I  'd 
brought  her  over  with  me,  instead  of  fooling  with  Sophia 
Gentrey  and  her  invitations,  devil  a  Quaker  of  'em  all 
would  have  had  a  chance  at  her.  But  she  '11  never  give 
him  up.  That 's  Catherine  !  She 's  as  tender  with  him  as 
a  new-made  mother.  This  is  his  secret  we  're  keeping,  and 
you  've  got  to  help  me.  He  has  n't  even  asked  me  for  her 
yet.  —  Shilly-shallying !  Making  up  his  Quaker  mind  on 
some  nonsensical  point  or  other.  I  'm  madder  and  madder, 
the  more  I  think  of  it.  We  shall  have  her  in  a  Quaker 
bonnet  preaching  in  meeting  next.  We  don't  do  things  by 
halves  —  our  breed  !  the  worse  for  us,  the  worse  for  us ! " 

"  How  long  —  did  you  say?  " 


THE  WINE   IS   DRUNK  273 

"How  long  what?" 

"  Since  she  gave  him  her  promise?  "  Bassy  got  it  out, 
and  as  usual  definitely. 

"  Don't  know  if  it  is  a  promise.  He  has  n't  asked  for  her 
yet,  I  say.  But  she  has  loved  him  since  ever  she  set  eyes 
on  him.  June  moonlight,  June  madness  !  And  she  sticks 
to  it  the  thing  is  real.  Whatever  she  has  said  to  him,  my 
girl  will  never  be  untrue." 

Last  June !  So,  when  she  looked  him  in  the  eyes  that 
morning  in  the  graveyard  and  said,  as  simple  as  a  child, 
"  I  expected  Francis  Havergal  here  —  I  came  up  on  the 
sloop  with  them,  you  know,"  it  was  her  first  lover  she  spoke 
of  in  that  even  voice,  and  her  love  was  scarce  a  week  old ! 
She  was  there  to  meet  him,  in  secret.  His  father's  new- 
made  grave  was  their  trysting-place.  She  had  lived  all 
summer  in  the  same  house  with  her  guardian  —  that  guile 
less  man  —  and  kept  it  from  him  too.  He  was  somehow 
very  sure  the  dominie  would  have  told  him  had  he  known 
it  himself. 

But  that  was  not  the  core  of  the  wound.  He  was  prob 
ing  it  as  fast  and  as  deep  as  he  could  bear.  That  same  day, 
he  had  laid  his  life  open  to  her,  his  whole  past  and  personal 
history,  sparing  not  his  own  father  in  her  eyes  (this  boy 
did  not  tell  his  soul  to  every  one);  and  she  had  taken  it  all 
and  reserved  herself  —  for  Francis  Havergal !  Bassy,  who 
never  had  touched  a  girl's  hand  in  his  life,  shuddered  when 
he  remembered  those  hands  he  took  in  his  that  day  and  laid 
his  face  between  them ;  and  when  he  had  said,  "  Crown 
me  !  "  it  was  as  much  an  offering  of  his  life  to  the  girl  as 
if  he  had  vowed  it  at  the  altar.  And  that  she  understood 
him  he  must  remember,  too,  till  he  could  forget  her  startled 


274  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

eyes  and  her  swift,  hot  blush,  and  her  tears  as  she  drew  her 
hands  away. 

What  were  these  women  created  for,  in  the  likeness  of 
God's  angels  ?  To  make  cynics  and  wise  men  of  ignorant 
boys  ?  He  must  learn  his  lesson  like  another  —  as  the 
colonel,  another  boy,  learned  his  of  Polly  Watts.  And 
the  worst  was,  whenever  he  saw  those  eyes  —  and  he  saw 
them  night  and  day  —  he  still  could  not  convince  himself 
they  were  not  true  !  To  think  of  her,  as  herself,  —  as  he 
knew  she  must  be,  —  and  to  think  how  she  had  dealt  with 
him,  was  to  play  with  madness. 

He  played  with  it  all  that  day,  and  by  evening  he  was 
mad  —  as  far  as  a  perfectly  sane,  well-dressed  young  man 
can  be  who  goes  about  with  a  sob  in  his  throat  and  speaks 
to  no  one. 

The  little  village  of  Bennington  named  for  Governor 
Benning  Wentworth  (who  had  been  having  a  beautiful  time 
granting  grants  across  the  Connecticut  River,  out  of  each 
one  keeping  a  slice  for  himself)  was  situate  by  the  king's 
decree  in  New  York  province  at  that  time,  and  was  under 
her  jurisdiction,  subject  to  all  those  quarrels  which  made 
the  history  of  the  Hampshire  Grants. 

That  night  a  coach  and  pair  drove  up  to  the  Green  Moun 
tain  tavern  (where  the  stuffed  catamount  hoisted  on  a  pole 
looked  across  the  New  York  line  with  a  grin  of  defiance). 
Two  gentlemen  got  down,  one  from  the  box  beside  the 
driver,  one  from  inside,  where  his  seat  facing  two  ladies 
had  perhaps  incommoded  their  voluminous  silks  and  bro 
cades. 

He  limped,  or  pretended  to,  and  swore  lightly  as  he 
sprang  out,  saying  to  the  gentleman  from  off  the  box,  "  It 's 


THE  WINE  IS   DRUNK  275 

like  jumping  into  a  tub  of  d — d  ice-water,  this  night  air 
in  silk  stockings." 

The  other  was  coated  to  the  ears  and  carried  a  great 
muff. 

They  stepped  into  the  tavern,  remaining  there  longer 
than  the  ladies  thought  necessary.  Still  they  did  not  re 
sume  their  places  when  they  came  out,  but  stood  talking 
at  the  coach  door.  Questions  and  answers  flew  back  and 
forth.  The  female  voices  betokened  excitement. 

"  Zounds,  I  can't  stand  this !  I  'm  cold.  Let  me  in,  girls. 
You  with  your  muff  stand  out  there  and  hail  the  Red  Oaks 
coach,  will  you,  Johnson ?  I'm  the  shorn  lamb." 

"  His  best  suit 's  too  thin,"  Mrs.  Stepney  explained,  with 
wifely  participation.  "  He  put  it  on  for  Catherine  Yelver- 
ton." 

"And  now  I'm  sold,  pox  on  it!  What's  Yelverton 
mean  by  such  tomfool  nonsense  ?  " 

"  But  I  want  to  see  the  colonel's  house,"  wailed  Mrs. 
Stepney.  "  What  difference  does  it  make  to  us  ?  " 

"  I'm  sorry  you  must  turn  back  on  my  account,"  Lady 
Johnson  stiffly  put  in. 

"  Sir  John  is  quite  right.  It  won't  do,  this  won't ! 
Yelverton  ought  to  have  shown  more  respect  for  his  own 
daughter,  at  least."  Colonel  Stepney  supported  her. 

They  sat  still  in  the  carriage  while  Sir  John  watched 
from  the  tavern-porch  for  the  Red  Oaks  coach. 

It  came,  with  two  gentlemen  riding  ahead. 

"  What 's  wrong  here  ?  Broke  a  whiffletree  ?  "  they 
asked,  reining  up. 

Sir  John  stepped  off  the  stoop  and  greeted  the  ladies  in 
the  coach,  —  Mrs.  Hastings,  her  sister,  and  a  young  friend 


276  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

of  the  latter  from  New  York.  Afterward  the  men  stood 
and  talked  together  aside. 

"  If  your  ladies  won't  go  on,  ours  shan't,"  said  Guy 
Hastings.  "  Deuce  of  a  long  drive  back  for  '  em  without 
dinner.  What  could  they  get  at  the  Catamount  Tav 
ern?" 

"  Catamounts,  with  the  claws  on,"  said  Sir  John.  "  It's 
the  principle  of  the  thing  I  look  at.  Let  a  man  call  things 
by  their  right  names." 

"Yelverton  was  a  trifle  mad  about  that  girl  from  the 
first.  I  was  down  on  the  Muskingum  with  Bouquet  when 
he  took  her  from  the  Indians."  It  was  Captain  Considine 
who  spoke,  one  of  the  so-styled  "  mercenaries" ;  a  good  offi 
cer  but  a  pretty  roaring  sort  of  blade.  "  He  'd  have  fought 
any  one  of  us  who  looked  at  her.  Swore  she  was  the  same 
to  him  as  his  own  child.  He 's  bound  not  to  eat  his  words 
—  in  public." 

"  He  '11  eat  them  to-night,"  said  Sir  John. 

But  no  one  present  knew  what  he  was  plotting,  in  pay 
ment  for  that  after-dinner  scene  not  two  years  old  in  his 
burning  memory  of  it. 

' "  The  deuce  of  it  is  we  have  no  horses,  if  our  ladies  go 
back,"  said  Will  Stepney. 

"  Have  'em  sent  over  in  the  morning,"  said  Hastings. 

"D — d  awkward  to  drive  up  to  a  man's  house  with 
your  ladies,  and  send  'em  away  again,"  Considine  observed, 
with  an  amused  laugh  at  the  predicament. 

"  It 's  his  own  awkwardness.  He  trapped  us  into  it.  It 's 
our  ladies,  I  think,  who  are  the  victims.  Lady  Johnson 
will  be  nigh  exhausted,  but  she  agrees  with  me  there's  a 
principle  at  stake." 


THE  WINE   IS  DRUNK  277 

"  Your  father,  now,  calls  things  by  their  names,"  the 
captain  opened  broadly. 

He  could  never  forget  that  Sir  John  Johnson,  Bart.,  was 
merely  a  provincial  knight,  son  of  a  low-born  German  wo 
man  and  a  man  risen  from  the  people.  A  singular  race 
these  Colonials,  to  study  on  their  own  soil. 

Sir  John  replied  calmly,  "  Miss  Molly  Brant  is  a  chief 
tain's  sister,  and  quite  as  much  my  father's  wife  according 
to  her  ideas  of  marriage  as  any  white  lady  she  meets ;  and 
I  never  knew  one  refuse  to  meet  her,  in  my  father's  house. 
In  law,  of  course,  'tis  quite  different." 

"  Extremely  convenient  for  his  heir  it  is  that ! "  laughed 
Considine. 

So  the  Red  Oaks  coach  went  back  with  its  ladies,  all 
sympathizing  with  the  principle  but  vastly  disappointed  of 
their  evening.  Life  in  the  mountains  was  dull  and  curios 
ity  as  strong  there  as  anywhere ;  and  Colonel  Yelverton 
was  a  charming  host. 

In  the  drawing-room  with  the  London  furniture,  Char 
lotte  stood  by  one  of  the  columns  —  there  was  a  pair  of 
them  supporting  a  square-beamed  arch  that  framed  the 
high,  carved  chimney-piece  in  white  and  gold.  A  mirror 
in  the  lower  panel  reflected  her  profile,  the  beautiful  set  of 
her  dark  eye,  those  corners  where  dark  lashes  emphasize 
the  painter's  line.  She  was  excessively  nervous,  but  did 
not  show  it ;  also  she  was  dazed  by  her  own  splendor  as  last 
she  had  beheld  herself,  between  the  candles  of  her  dress 
ing-mirror.  Fifty  years  after,  the  gown  she  wore  that  night 
and  never  wore  again  was  taken  out  of  its  wrappings  and 
exclaimed  over  by  three  young  girls  who  thought  what  a 
night  of  triumph  "she"  must  have  had  who  wore  it 


278  THE  EOYAL  AMERICANS 

long  ago !  They  did  not  know  "  her "  story  as  it  really 
happened.  Its  knots  of  bluettes  and  rose-buds  floating  on 
the  lustrous  cream-white  ground,  the  blue  satin  petticoat 
shot  with  silver,  were  much  better  preserved  than  the 
memory  of  the  wearer. 

The  gentlemen  had  entered  all  at  once,  —  their  host 
surprised  that  they  did  not  wait  for  the  ladies,  —  and  were 
presented  to  Charlotte  ceremoniously. 

"Are  the  ladies  in  need  of  anything  upstairs?"  asked 
the  colonel,  still  in  the  dark. 

"  My  wife  and  Lady  Johnson  are  not  with  us  to-night, 
colonel,  I  regret  to  say."  Will  Stepney  flushed,  for  he  was 
a  kind  man.  "  And  still  more  that  I  should  have  to  say  it 
so  late  in  the  day." 

"It 's  never  too  late  to  add  to  a  table,"  said  the  colonel 
gallantly,  "  but  it 's  poor  work  at  any  hour  to  make  it 
smaller.  I  hope  there's  no  illness  or  trouble  at  the 
Mount?" 

"  Not  a  bit,  not  a  bit !  Fact  is  the  roads  are  in  beastly 
condition.  The  ladies  undertook  rather  more  than  they  felt 
able  to  go  through  with." 

"  Well,  Madam  Hastings  and  her  young  ladies  will  join 
us  presently,  I  trust." 

"Most  unfortunate,"  Hastings  replied.  "Hope  you'll 
excuse  'em,  colonel.  My  wife  and  her  sister  gave  out  when 
they  heard  Lady  Johnson  was  indisposed." 

"To  come?"  the  colonel  added.  "The  indisposition 
appears  to  have  been  sadly  contagious.  —  Dunbar,  will  you 
tell  that  rascal  in  the  hall  to  have  the  table  cut  down  six 
covers  and  be  quick  about  it  ?  Charlotte,  my  dear,  as  we 
are  to  be  a  company  of  bachelors  this  evening,  I  fear  we  must 


THE  WINE  IS   DRUNK  279 

give  you  up  too.  —  Miss  Yelverton  bids  you  good-night, 
gentlemen." 

Charlotte  took  the  colonel's  arm,  grave  with  sympathy 
for  that  in  his  face  and  manner  which  she  saw  plain  enough, 
but  did  not  understand. 

Bassy  opened  the  door  for  her.  She  turned  to  the  room 
and  made  her  curtsy  nobly,  in  silence,  and  he  closed  it, 
bowing  to  the  ground.  Some  resolve  which  in  that  moment 
he  had  taken  made  his  check  as  pale  as  her  own. 

The  wine  was  on  the  table ;  the  servants  had  withdrawn. 
They  drank  to  the  King,  to  the  Duke,  to  the  army  in 
America,  to  a  better  disposition  in  the  Colonies  and  a 
peaceful  solution  of  our  unhappy  differences.  "Not  too 
peaceful,"  Captain  Considine  threw  in,  with  a  twinkle  in 
his  eye.  They  drank  to  the  wives  and  babies  —  "  present 
and  to  come,"  he  added,  bowing  to  Sir  John;  and  then 
the  host  looked  round  the  table,  glass  in  hand. 

"  We  will  drink  the  next  toast,  gentlemen,  standing  if 
you  please  —  to  a  member  of  my  own  family  consigned  to 
me  by  providence  and  the  fortunes  of  war  •  —  Mistress 
Charlotte  Sophia  Yelverton,  my  adopted  daughter,  my 
god-daughter,  and,"  the  colonel  added  with  earnest  em- 
phasis,  "my  daughter  in  God!" 

If  it  was  a  challenge,  it  was  also  as  he  said  it  very  much 
a  plea  for  the  girl,  for  himself,  for  a  touch  of  Christian, 
of  manly  comprehension.  But  they  were  gentlemen  of  a 
certain  make  and  they  were  at  the  mercy  of  the  customs 
and  thoughts  of  their  time. 

The  company  was  seated  again. 

"  Sir  John  refuses  the  toast  ?  "  Sir  John  had  taken  one 
sip  from  his  glass,  and  looked  the  colonel  in  the  eye. 


280  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

"I  have  drunk  to  the  beautiful  Mistress  Charlotte 
Sophia,  and  to  her  happy  recovery  who  was  lost  and  is 
found  ;  but,  I  confess,  Colonel  Yelverton  asks  too  much 
when  it  comes  to  the  whole  of  that  amiable  toast." 

"  Which  portion  of  it  does  Sir  John  reject  ?  " 

"  Colonel  Yelverton  must  be  aware  that  so  stiff  an  ad 
mixture  of  the  word  *  daughter,'  under  the  circumstances, 
would  be  difficult  for  any  gentleman  to  swallow." 

Colonel  Yelverton  drove  his  chair  back  from  the  table. 
"  Enough ! "  he  shouted ;  but  an  arm  shot  across  the  ma 
hogany.  Bassy  Dunbar,  empty  glass  in  hand,  struck  his 
fist  on  the  board  directly  in  front  of  Sir  John,  almost 
under  his  nose,  and  said,  so  low  that  a  silence  created  itself 
for  his  words  to  be  heard  :  — 

"  Sir  John  will  finish  his  glass  to  my  promised  wife,  or 
answer  to  me  for  the  reason." 

Sir  John  rose  and  stepped  back  from  the  table.  He 
smiled  very  haughtily  at  Mr.  Bassy  Dunbar. 

"Promised  wives,  like  adopted  daughters,  may  be 
matters  for  conjecture.  A  bold  imagination  like  Mr. 
Dunbar's  can  doubtless  produce  them  as  occasion  may 
demand." 

Bassy  also  had  risen. 

"  Sir  John  will  finish  that  glass  of  wine  "  —  he  indicated 
which  —  "  this  night,  before  midnight,  to  Mistress  Char 
lotte  Yelverton  as  my  wife,  or  answer  for  the  insult,  and 
for  the  liberty  Sir  John  permits  himself  with  Mr.  Dun- 
bar's  '  imagination ' !  " 

"  Agreed,  gentlemen  !  "  said  Sir  John.  "  If  Mr.  Dunbar 
presents  me  before  midnight  to  Miss  Charlotte  Sophia  as 
Mistress  Dunbar,  I  will  finish  that  glass  in  honor  of  the 


THE  WINE  IS  DRUNK  281 

bride,  and  drink  another  to  the  force  of  —  imagination  — 
without  mentioning  whose." 

Bassy  went  round  the  table,  took  Sir  John's  unfinished 
glass,  and,  bowing  as  he  passed  him,  set  it  on  the  high 
mantel ;  filled  his  own  and  placed  it  beside  Sir  John's. 

Colonel  Yelverton  straightway  filled  a  third  glass  for 
himself  and  set  it  up  to  balance  Bassy's ;  and  facing  the 
room  he  said :  — 

"  If  Mr.  Dunbar  for  any  reason  should  not  be  able  to 
fulfill  his  part  of  the  bargain,  gentlemen,  bear  me  witness : 
Sir  John  shall  be  given  one  chance  more  to  finish  the  toast 
he  has  slighted,  and  if  he  refuse  again,  you  will  measure 
the  ground  for  us  in  the  morning.  There  is  abundance  of 
room  outside  us  here,  Sir  John,  with  no  danger  of  inter 
ference  from  the  law." 

The  allusion  was  lost  on  the  company. 

Captain  Considine  took  up  his  position  on  the  rug  op 
posite  the  three  wine-glasses,  charged  and  half  charged, 
that  stood  on  the  mantel-shelf  waiting  to  be  drunk  at  the 
point  of  death.  He  performed  ceremonious  capers  before 
them,  laying  his  hand  on  his  embroidered  satin  heart. 

"The  finest  thing  I  've  seen  since  I  came  to  America !  " 
he  said  almost  tearfully.  "  Where  do  you  raise  these  sons 
of  guns,  Yelverton  ?  I  '11  wager  my  aunt's  money  that 
young 'un  never  thought  of  a  wife  till  five  minutes  ago  by 
the  clock." 

"  There  you  are  wrong,  Captain  Considine,"  said  Bassy 
from  the  hall ;  he  came  and  stood  in  the  door  for  the  pur 
pose  of  adding,  "  and  if  you  say  that  again,  sir,  I  shall 
have  to  fight  you  too." 

"  Exactly,  my  beautiful  bully !  I  thought  you  would !  I 


282  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

shall  not  say  it  again  ;  have  it  your  own  way.  I  salute  your 
sword  or  your  pistol.  But  if  this  be  an  American  wooing, 
give  me  more  of  'em.  Oh,  give  me  more !  " 

Bassy  returned  to  the  room ;  he  had  forgotten  some 
thing.  Ignoring  the  others,  he  went  up  to  Colonel  Yelver- 
ton,  holding  out  his  hand. 

"  I  have  not  asked  your  consent,  sir,  this  night,  but  as 
we  spoke  of  the  matter  some  time  ago — you  remember? 
—  I  took  it  for  granted  in  my  haste.  I  hope  you  can  trust 
me  with  her?" 

Colonel  Yelverton  clasped  the  boy  by  the  hand  and  laid 
his  left  arm  over  his  shoulder. 

"  I  dare  not  say  you  are  crazy,  Bassy,"  he  spoke  low, 
"  for  it 's  what  I  hope  I  should  do  myself  in  your  place. 
God  bless  you  and  God  help  you  —  both  !  " 

Bassy  stepped  along  the  gallery,  past  one  room  await 
ing  its  guest  to  another.  He  came  to  the  state  bed-cham 
ber  where  the  ladies  were  to  have  laid  off  their  wraps. 
The  door  stood  ajar ;  candles,  half  burned  to  their  sockets, 
flared  on  the  dressing-table ;  there  was  a  fire  smoldering 
out  on  the  hearth.  He  knocked  and  entered,  getting  no 
answer.  On  the  bed  between  the  curtains  he  saw  a  heap 
of  silks,  and  on  the  pillow  a  dark,  unpowdered  head. 

He  spoke  several  times  before  he  could  waken  the 
sleeper. 

"  Charlotte,  will  you  get  up,  please,  and  come  over 
here?  I  want  to  speak  to  you." 

She  came,  and  sat  in  a  chilly,  drowsy  heap  in  the  great 
chair  by  the  hearth,  while  he  made  the  logs  blaze  and 
shut  the  door. 

"  A  strange  thing  has  happened  downstairs,"  he  began. 


THE  WINE  IS  DRUNK  283 

"  Are  they  not  gone  to  bed  yet  ?  I  must  have  been 
sleeping  a  long  time." 

"  Much  better  if  they  had  been,  too  !  A  deal  of  mischief 
has  been  done.  And  now,  to  pay  the  reckoning.  There  's 
only  you,  poor  girl !  it  all  comes  back  on  you  —  to  save  a 
duel  between  Sir  John  Johnson  and  our  colonel.  A  deadly 
affront  was  passed  by  Sir  John:  he  refused  a  toast  the 
colonel  called  to  the  daughter  of  the  house,  and  so  I  made 
it  mine.  I  said,  if  you  won't  drink  it  to  the  dregs  to  the 
colonel's  daughter  you  '11  drink  it  to  my  promised  wife. 
That 's  the  way  you  have  to  play  up  to  those  idiots,  if  you 
get  into  the  game  at  all,  and  I  had  to  get  in  before  the 
colonel.  It 's  all  mummery !  but  it 's  the  way  they  do." 

There  was  something  infinitely  comforting  to  Charlotte 
in  his  use  of  the  word  "  they."  She  rested  upon  those 
words  while  he  made  himself  clearer. 

"  In  one  second,  Colonel  Yelverton  would  have  chal 
lenged  Sir  John,  and  been  first.  I  took  it  over  him  as  your 
future  husband.  And  when  I  did  so,  Sir  John,  before 
them  all,  sneered  at  my  claim  to  challenge  him  by  that 
title." 

"  Wait  a  minute  —  what  title  ?  " 

"  Your  future  husband ;  future,  you  understand  —  only 
future,  so  far.  But  he  scoffed  at  it.  So  I  had  to  make 
it  stronger  or  back  down  ;  something  he  could  believe  on 
evidence.  I  said  he  should  drink  it  to  my  wife  before 
midnight  or  fight  me  in  the  morning.  Now,  listen  :  the 
colonel  then  set  up  his  glass  and  said,  '  If  Mr.  Dunbar 
cannot  prove  his  right,  mine  stands  good.  We  '11  return 
to  that  toast,  and  if  Sir  John  refuse  it  again,  he  will  fight 
me  — '  or  words  that  mean  the  same.  You  don't  want 


284  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

our  colonel  to  kill  Sir  John !  He 's  got  a  sweet  young 
wife,  and  she  loves  him,  and  she  is  going  to  be  a  mother. 
And  if  he  should  kill  the  colonel,  or  disable  him,  are  you 
any  better  off  ?  They  won't  believe  he  is  your  true  pro 
tector  ;  they  accuse  him  of  hypocrisy,  of  taking  advantage 
of  your  gratitude  and  your  helplessness." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Charlotte.  "  I  must  not  stay 
here ;  and  yet  he  will  not  let  me  go  away  and  take  care 
of  myself." 

"  No  ;  that 's  another  of  their  notions.  No  woman  be 
longing  to  them  must  work  for  her  living.  So  you  must 
have  a  husband,  Charlotte.  And  it 's  only  a  question  of 
how  I  was  to  say  it,  or  when  —  I  made  up  my  mind,  to 
night  as  you  left  the  room,  to  ask  you  as  soon  as  I  could 
decently ;  and  now  I  have  done  it  not  decently,  but  they 
forced  it  on  me  ;  d — n  them !  Take  time  to  think  of  it. 
I  've  sent  for  the  parson,  but  he  won't  be  here  for  an 
hour  and  a  half  yet." 

"  You  sent  for  the  — " 

"  To  have  him  here  in  time.  Now  we  've  all  that  hour 
and  a  half  to  get  used  to  the  idea ;  not  me,  but  you." 

"  May  I  ask  you  a  few  questions  ?  " 

"As  many  as  you  choose." 

"  Do  you  love  me  at  all  ?  " 

"  Not  as  much  as  I  hope  to  when  you  are  my  wife." 

"  Do  you  love  any  one  else  ?  " 

Bassy  shivered.  "  No  one  whom  I  can  ever  marry." 

"  Then  you  do  love  —  Catherine  !  Something  happened 
to  you  this  morning.  I  saw  her  father  talking  to  you  ;  you 
were  speaking  of  her.  I  have  watched  you  all  day.  I  am 
very  sorry  for  you  !  " 


THE  WINE   IS   DRUNK  285 

"  We  'd  better  not  go  any  farther  into  that." 

"  No,"  she  said.  "  You  have  been  honest,  and  so  shall  I 
be.  I  too  love  some  one  whom  I  can  never  marry." 

"  I  supposed  that,"  said  Bassy.  "  It  will  make  me  care 
for  you  more,  for  I  shall  not  feel  that  I  am  wronging  you 
so  much  by  what  /  can't  help !  I  shall  be  too  busy  to  run 
around  looking  for  temptations.  I  shall  hold  fast  to  what 
I  say  when  I  take  you  for  my  wife.  As  long  as  you  are 
true  to  me,  I  can  be,  and  I  will  be,  true  to  you !  But,  as 
far  as  I  know  myself,  I  may  say  this :  no  one  who  has 
deceived  me  will  ever  do  it  twice." 

"  There  is  something,  now,  I  shall  have  to  say."  Char 
lotte  fixed  her  eyes  on  the  fire;  she  spoke  wearily,  with 
no  life  in  her  tones.  "  At  Bennington  one  day,  some  men 
looked  at  me  and  one  called  me, '  French  wanton.'  It  was 
Mr.  Ethan  Allen.  He  is  a  respectable  man.  I  shall  always 
know  he  is  here.  The  children  threw  mud  at  me,  when  he 
said  it.  And  Mimi  says  the  reason  Catherine  did  not  come 
is  because  she  does  not  want  to  live  here  with  me." 

"  That  I  know  is  a  horrible  falsehood,  worthy  only  of  a 
—  Mimi !  As  for  the  other  ?  You  have  some  respect  for 
me,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  I  have  the  most !  " 

"  Well :  do  you  ask  me,  after  what  I  have  said  to  you, 
if  I  believe  that?" 

"  No ;  I  ask  you  if  it 's  because  you  know  Colonel 
Yelverton,  you  don't  believe  it,  or  because  you  know 
me?" 

"  Both,"  said  Bassy,  "  or  I  should  not  be  in  this  house ! 
I  knew  it  all  before,  —  except  about  Mimi,  —  but  you 
were  brave  to  tell  me  yourself.  I  care  for  you  that  much 


286  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

more  because  you  were  straight  with  me  down  to  the 
ground ;  ground  it  is  —  too  vile  for  us  to  tread  on  !  Yet, 
you  are  right  —  Ethan  Allen  is  a  respectable  man.  He  is 
more  than  that ;  but  he  does  n't  know  as  much  about  every 
thing  as  he  thinks  he  does.  So  you  '11  go  through  with  it 
—  to  save  bloodshed  and  to  silence  the  slurs  on  our  colo 
nel?  one  of  the  best  men,  I  believe,  that  lives.  —  Thank 
you,  my  good  girl.  May  you  never  repent  it !  There  's  one 
other  thing :  I  shall  have  to  kiss  you  before  them  all  down 
there,  after  we  are  married.  Can  you  bear  with  that?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Charlotte.  "  Shall  I  have  to  kiss  any  of 
them?" 

Bassy  stroked  her  hand  as  he  would  a  child's.  "  Rest 
now  and  think  of  it  no  more.  You  will  be  safe  with  me, 
poor  girl,  if  I  can  make  you.  Your  life  among  us  has  been 
hard." 

To  herself,  when  he  was  gone,  she  said,  "  Never  first  to 
any  one !  Not  even  to  my  husband.  I  always  thought  I 
would  be  that  or  never  have  one !  " 

She  sat  and  dreamed,  while  a  man  was  posting  over  the 
hills  for  the  parson  ;  it  could  not  be  called  thinking.  She 
sees  a  far-away  deep  forest  glade,  in  sunshine  that  filters 
in  myriad  patterns  through  leaves  upon  leaves ;  and  an 
Indian  woman  holds  a  white  child  in  her  arms,  rocking 
herself  and  bewailing  the  parting  that  is  near,  for  a 
squaw  has  not  a  chieftain's  pride  in  hiding  her  grief.  She 
sees  a  file  of  Indians  pass  silent  through  the  trees  lead 
ing  the  child,  gaudily  dressed,  by  the  hand :  this  child 
is  to  be  offered  up  to  civilization.  A  woman's  wails  ring 
through  the  forest.  The  child  hides  her  face  in  a  dark 
hand  that  many  a  time  has  been  dyed  with  the  blood  of 


THE  WINE   IS   DRUNK  287 

her  race,  even  with  that  of  her  own  father  and  mother 
perhaps.  A  right  and  necessary  thing  is  being  done ;  yet 
many  must  rebel  and  suffer :  because  it  was  begun  by 
war,  and  seldom  are  the  mercies  of  war  above  reproach. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

ONE  stops  before  describing  that  marriage  ceremony. 
Even  the  night  had  ceased  to  roar  with  laughter.  Captain 
Considine  contributed  his  best  to  the  occasion  by  falling 
asleep  in  his  chair,  and  his  pleasantries  were  agreeably 
wanting. 

Sir  John  developed  a  manner  of  respect  mingled  with 
surprise  toward  Bassy,  and  did  not  offer  to  kiss  the  bride. 
The  colonel  denied  that  Sir  John  behaved  better  than  he 
had  expected.  He  would  see  no  good  in  that  gentleman 
if  he  could  help  it :  a  thing  not  difficult  to  avoid  if  one 
sets  about  it,  —  seeing  the  good  side  of  our  enemies. 

When  all  were  gone  upstairs  with  their  bedroom  can- 
dies,  more  or  less  assisted  in  the  ascent,  Colonel  Yelverton 
and  Bassy  had  the  house  to  themselves. 

The  parson  had  brought  a  fresh  mail  from  Bennington. 
There  was  a  letter  in  Catherine's  hand.  Something  caused 
her  father  to  shrink  from  opening  it,  —  he  had  had  enough 
for  one  night ;  but  one  does  not  postpone  the  letter  of  a 
daughter  about  whom  one's  thoughts  revolve  in  constant 
anxiety. 

Bassy,  walking  up  and  down  in  the  back  of  the  room, 
was  not  observing  him ;  he  cleared  his  throat  hoarsely, 
but  did  not  speak ;  one  leg  he  thrust  out  and  rocked  the 
foot  upon  the  floor  and  groaned  to  himself.  Bassy  stopped 
his  pacing. 

"  I  can't  bear  this.  You  '11  have  to  take  your  share  of 
it.  Why  in  God's  name  did  I  say  that  to  you  this  morn- 


THE  WINE   IS   DRUNK  289 

ing  ?  It 's  not  true !  It  was  n't  true  while  I  was  saying 
it." 

Bassy  came  and  stood  by  the  mantel. 

"  Do  you  mean  —  it  is  broken  ?  " 

"  Not  even  that !  The  fool  lets  her  drop  out  of  his  hand 
for  want  of  nerve  to  hold  her.  He  had  her  and  he  let  her 
slip.  _  That  boy !  That  Quaker !  " 

"  I  am  glad  she  was  not  false  to  him." 

"  False  !  She  tries  to  excuse  him !  She  pleads  for  him 
like  a  mother.  She  has  it  all  writ  out  here,  but  I  can't 
read  it.  I  am  not  able  to  grasp  the  words.  The  thing  it 
self  —  it  stuns  me  !  It 's  taking  all  her  strength  to  bear  it. 
She  wants  to  come  to  me  now,  but  she  can't  sit  in  a  saddle. 
She  asks  for  time  to  strangle  it.  To  get  over  loving  him  ; 
says  she  is  ashamed  —  ashamed  of  being  true !  God  a 
mercy !  what  is  a  man  to  do  when  his  child  is  hurt  like 
that  ?  I  can't  kill  him.  He 's  only  a  boy.  But  she  's  a 
woman." 

"  Don't  kill  him,"  said  Bassy,  mechanically  in  a  hard 
voice,  —  "  if  you  want  him  to  suffer." 

The  colonel  had  been  a  boy  once,  though  he  did  not  do 
as  this  boy ;  he  grasped  all  the  chances  Francis  resigned, 
and  lost  most  of  them.  Result:  Catherine,  and  a  sad, 
unnatural,  disjointed  life  for  himself.  But  if  ever  he  had 
repented  the  way  he  took  with  the  mother,  it  was  not  that 
night  when  he  thought  of  her  child. 

We  resent  prudence  in  the  young  more  perhaps  because 
middle  age  comes  by  it  so  naturally.  That  proud  and  un 
quenchable  initiative  which  older  people  love  while  they 
shake  their  heads  was  denied  poor  Francis,  who  was  old  and 
suspicious  and  wise  before  he  was  born.  Meantime,  leaving 


290  THE   KOYAL   AMERICANS 

out  the  individuals,  here  are  two  ways  for  boys  and  girls 
to  love  in  an  age  complicated  by  fathers. 

In  a  few  days  the  colonel  packed  up  and  went  to  his 
child.  He  implored  her  to  come  away  with  him  to  London 

—  though  it  was  too  late  for  the  voyage,  or  to  New  York, 
or  Philadelphia,  or  Albany  to  Madam  Schuyler,  whom  he 
still  turned  to  in  his  troubles. 

She  begged  to  stay  quiet  as  she  was,  for  the  present. 
The  cousin's  house  was  a  good  place  for  broken  wings,  and 
she  loved  him  better  than  ever  and  was  better  able  to  love 
him  ;  and  many  things  were  clear  to  her  that  she  never 
saw  before.  Others  were  purposely  hid  from  her.  Bassy's 
marriage,  such  as  it  was,  must  be  justified.  Her  father 
could  not  touch  upon  the  truth  concerning  that  sad  busi 
ness,  for  which  he  held  himself  to  blame.  Confession  might 
have  eased  his  own  mind,  but  it  would  not  have  been  fair 
to  Charlotte.  And  who  knows :  the  union  might  not  turn 
out  so  ill  after  all. 

It  sickened  Catherine  of  men  who  talked  of  promises 
in  the  sky  and  were  satisfied  with  the  colors,  the  mere 
pinks  and  blues  of  the  earthly  symbol.  Francis,  who 
thought  he  could  not  afford  the  price  of  her  love,  at  least 
had  not  taken  up  with  a  cheaper  kind ;  but  Bassy,  who 
loved  her  in  June,  had  married  Charlotte  in  October. 

All  that  she  knew  of  Charlotte  personally  she  had  from 
her  father.  Affectionate  and  generous,  but  ignorant,  of 
course.  Not  a  lady,  —  how  could  she  be,  —  but  a  fine  girl. 
Difficult  to  talk  to,  —  but  perhaps  Bassy  could  manage  it, 

—  and  extraordinary  handsome. 

Poor  Francis !  Poor  Bassy !  But  of  the  two  Bassy  was 
the  one  she  pitied,  or,  shall  we  say,  looked  down  upon  most. 


BOOK  VI 

MEN  OF  THE  GRANTS 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

APRIL  snow-banks  were  shrinking  in  the  first  May 
winds.  It  was  the  great  battle  spring  of  the  Revolution 
when  that  shot  was  fired,  "  heard  round  the  world  "  !  The 
news  had  just  reached  the  Hampshire  Grants. 

Riding  through  his  own  woods  toward  the  manor-house 
of  Yelverton,  Bassy  Dunbar,  with  this  news  in  his  veins, 
met  Catherine,  also  alone,  except  for  her  dogs,  a  brace  of 
Scotch  greyhounds  who  ran  before  her,  lifting  serious  eye 
brows  at  him  as  they  sped  past. 

She  had  celebrated  the  feel  of  spring  in  the  air  by  some 
corresponding  change  of  dress  that  made  her  more  start- 
lingly  welcome  to  the  eye,  like  the  first  discovered  flowers. 

Bassy  —  though  not  for  this  reason  —  looked  at  her  in 
so  marked  a  way  that  she  drew  rein,  thinking  he  wished 
to  speak. 

"What  have  you  heard?  "  she  asked,  trying  to  read  his 
expression. 

He  did  not  answer  till  her  horse  was  quiet ;  then,  with 
a  quick,  deep  breath,  turning  his  glance  from  her,  he 
said,  — 

"  The  struggle  is  begun.  There  has  been  fighting  around 
Boston." 

"  Serious  fighting  ?  —  not  a  riot  ?  " 

"  Citizens  under  arms  against  the  King's  troops  —  under 
orders.  Massachusetts  stood  her  ground,  thanks  to  God ! 
We  shall  see  now  how  many  are  with  her." 

"You  will  be,  for  one!" 


294  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  If  that  were  a  question,  it  would  show  you  do  not 
know  me ! " 

"  It  was  not  a  question,  Bassy :  I  have  not  forgot  our 
talk  in  the  thunderstorm,  two  years  ago.  Do  you  know 
which  side  gave  the  order  that  meant  bloodshed?  Not 
that  it  matters." 

"  No ;  enough  has  been  done  on  both  sides  to  make  war 
inevitable,  at  last." 

"  You  breathe  freer  now  it  has  come  ?  " 

"  Deeper,  perhaps.  And  are  you  still  '  deaf  in  that  ear,' 
Catherine?" 

"  No,  but  I  am  dumb,  I  am  dumb  ! "  she  answered  con 
vulsively.  "You  can  speak!  Go  on." 

"  I  shall  distress  you,  if  I  understand  your  position." 

"  I  have  no  position.  I  want  the  news." 

"  It  will  come  hard  to  say  '  we,'  and  feel  that  it  ex 
cludes  —  " 

"4Us'?  I  fear  it  will.  Nevertheless,  go  on." 

"  The  news,  then,  is  very  wonderful  for  *  us.'  It  puts  us 
where  we  may  no  longer  count  the  cost  of  what  we  do. 
There  has  been  no  victory,  but  an  astonishing  resistance ; 
and  England  has  suffered  a  humiliation  she  will  never 
put  up  with.  We  are  '  convicted  felons '  now,  with  ropes 
around  our  necks,  or  a  nation." 

Bassy  described  what  took  place  on  the  19th  of  April 
at  Lexington  and  Concord,  according  to  such  details  as  had 
come  ;  and  a  great  deal  had  come  —  almost  too  much  for 
belief. 

"  All  they  tried  to  do  except  kill  a  few  Colonials,  they 
failed  in,  and  they  were  glad,  what  was  left  of  them,  to  get 
"back  under  the  guns  of  the  fleet." 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  295 

"  You  don't  mean  they  retreated  —  the  British  army !  " 
Catherine  was  stunned. 

"  They  ran,"  said  Bassy.  "  They  came  through  Charles- 
town  on  the  dead  run,  and  lucky  to  get  off  as  they  did." 

She  made  him  go  back  over  every  known  incident  of 
that  extraordinary  day ;  and  when  she  had  heard  how  Lord 
Percy  marched  out  with  a  thousand  laureled  veterans,  to 
the  support  of  Colonel  Smith,  and  both  fell  back  in  dis 
tress  and  confusion,  pursued  by  the  farmers  just  out  of 
their  beds  and  their  fields  —  the  flower  of  the  British  army 
dropping  by  scores  on  the  country  roads  —  she  was  silent, 
looking  beyond  him  into  a  chaos  of  old  faiths  torn  up  and 
vows  of  proud  disloyalty. 

"  The  men  who  can  do  this,"  she  said,  "  will  never  stop 
at  resistance  to  a  tax.  The  world  is  turned  upside-down." 

"  No ;  only  some  of  its  fashions.  It  is  time  such  kings 
as  George  the  Third  went  out  of  fashion  in  England." 

"  It  is  not  King  George,  it  is  George  the  King !  and 
what  he  stands  for." 

"  Then  let  him  stand,  in  God's  name,  for  what  a  king 
ought  to  stand  for !  England  will  go  back  a  hundred  years 
—  she  will  go  into  the  ditch  —  if  she  follow  him.  And 
what  she  permits  him  to  do  over  here,  —  't  will  recoil 
upon  herself,  when  't  is  done.  But  it  will  never  be.  Not 
now !  " 

"  This  comes,"  said  Catherine  "  of  not  being  dumb ! 
Help  me  if  you  can  to  shut  my  mouth.  You  do  not  realize, 
you  men  of  the  day,  what  victory  —  for  either  side  —  will 
cost  the  men  of  yesterday,  who  made  this  country  and  de 
fended  it,  together.  Think  of  the  old  friends  who  must  part, 
the  old  comrades  who  must  now  be  enemies !  Think  of  the 


296  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

good  swords  —  like  my  father's  —  that  must  rust  in  sheath 
because  the  blood  on  both  sides  is  too  dear  !  It  is  a  crime  — 
a  crime  !  Be  thankful  for  every  hour  of  patience  you  have 
shown.  When  do  you  go  ?  " 

"  Immediately.  I  am  on  my  way  now  to  speak  to  your 
father  about  replacing  me." 

"  Is  that  all  you  have  to  speak  to  him  about  ?  "  She  held 
out  her  hand.  "  Let  me  tell  you,  then :  no  one  shall  be  put 
in  your  place  at  Yelverton,  neither  outside  nor  in.  Rebel 
that  you  are  '  with  a  rope  around  your  neck,'  I  say  it  — 
who  am  dumb." 

"  I  thank  you  ;  when  so  much  must  be  left  unsaid  be 
tween  us.  But  kindness,  friendship,  cannot  do  the  work." 

«  The  work  ?  " 

"At  Yelverton.  I  trust  some  one  may  be  needed,  else 
my  post  will  have  been  a  sinecure." 

"Who  wiU  there  be  left?  This  call  wiU  empty  the 
Grants  of  men  who  could  take  your  place." 

"  There  will  be  some  good  Tories  left,"  smiled  Bassy. 

"  My  father  is  a  good  Tory." 

Catherine  had  turned  her  horse's  head  and  was  now  rid 
ing  toward  home  at  Bassy's  side,  her  puzzled  dogs  looking 
back  at  her  from  the  last  turn  in  sight,  marveling  at 
human  frivolity. 

"  He  has  plenty  of  time  to  look  after  his  own  land.  You 
have  made  him  lazy.  And  if  he  is  bothered  about  the 
books  —  /  write  a  fair  hand,  I  will  keep  the  accounts  my 
self.  I  can  follow  in  your  tracks  as  I  used  to  in  the  Wall- 
kill  woods,  and  so  1  shall  not  go  astray." 

Catherine  was  ungrudging  or  unsparing  in  her  allusions 
to  the  past ;  her  withers  she  considered  were  unwrung. 


MEN   OF  THE   GRANTS  297 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  could  do  it  all.  My  place  has  been 
too  easy." 

"  It  will  not  be  easy  after  you  are  gone.  How  do  you 
leave  Charlotte,  may  I  ask  ?  Do  any  of  your  men  go  with 
you?" 

"  Two  only  ;  and  your  father  will  lose  Obadiah  Smith." 

"  Naturally,"  smiled  Catherine.  "  I  dare  say  we  may  be 
able  to  spare  Obadiah." 

"  I  shall  leave  neighbor  Simpson  in  charge  of  my  place  — 
the  outside ;  and  Charlotte  has  good  friends." 

"  We  shall  try  to  be,"  said  Catherine ;  adding  thought 
fully,  "  she  used  to  be  fond  of  us  once,  and  Charlotte  does 
not  change." 

"  No,"  said  Bassy,  "  she  does  not  change." 

The  words,  said  quietly,  carried  an  effect  of  sadness  not 
intentional;  but  here  a  secret  of  Bassy's  marriage  crept 
out.  Whatever  his  hopes  at  first  may  have  been,  he  knew 
now  the  extent  of  the  sacrifice  he  had  made,  and  he  realized 
that  in  making  it  another  had  been  sacrificed  as  ignorant  as 
himself.  The  price  was  slow,  it  would  be  paid  by  inches  as 
life  went  on  —  quite  a  different  thing  from  the  sacrifice  of 
life  itself. 

Charlotte  possessed  certain  innate  deficiencies  peculiarly 
trying  to  a  man  inclined  toward  justice,  who  was  endeavor 
ing  to  meet  the  local  situation  in  a  spirit  of  fair-mindedness. 
She  could  not  reason  nor  be  reasoned  with  where  her  pride 
or  affection  had  once  been  wounded,  and  in  prudential  ways 
she  was  incapable  of  self-training.  Country  housewives 
watch  each  other  close,  and  a  woman  stands  or  falls  in  their 
eyes  by  her  domestic  management. 

A  loving,  unselfish  mother,  Charlotte  could  be  neither 


298  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

patient  nor  vigilant  nor  just.  A  picturesque,  inventive 
housewife,  she  could  not  be  a  conscientious  one ;  monotony 
tired  her.  Filled  with  zeal  at  first,  working  hard  yet  inef 
fectively,  her  house  was  attractive  and  neat  by  fits  and 
starts  ;  never  systematic,  never  tidy  all  over  at  one  time, 
nor  restful  to  a  man  at  evening  with  burdens  on  his  mind. 
These  were  details.  Her  life  exhibited  fine  and  generous 
traits  outside  of  all  that  was  incidental,  yet  little  to  be  de 
pended  on  as  to  character.  Her  wastefulness,  though  almost 
always  excusable  for  one  reason  or  another,  was  discourag 
ing  to  the  bread-winner ;  it  left  him  the  sordid,  ungracious 
part  of  scrutinizing  expenditures  where  confidence  in  the 
good  wife's  management  was  lacking.  Thus  in  leaving  home 
and  property  in  her  care,  Bassy  could  have  no  sense  of 
security,  nor  hopeful  pride  in  his  wife's  future  adminis 
tration. 

His  judgment  yielded  instantly  to  Catherine's  assertion 
that  with  her  help  her  father  would  need  no  steward.  Char 
lotte  had  claimed  the  same  when  he  spoke  of  leaving  the 
farm  in  charge  of  Simpson,  who  stood  willing  to  cultivate  his 
neighbor's  fields  011  shares  ;  but  he  placed  no  reliance  on  her 
estimate  of  her  own  powers,  and  was  forced  to  irritate  her 
by  going  on  with  his  arrangements  despite  her  promises 
and  protests. 

For  Bassy  had  long  been  making  ready  in  his  own  mind 
for  this  summons. 

"  I  don't  wish  to  pry  into  your  plans,"  said  Catherine, 
"  but  when  it  comes  to  good-by,  I  hope  you  will  let  us  know, 
brother  Bassy.  Men  are  too  fond  of  shirking  that  little 
ceremony." 

Having  shown  what  Catherine's  attitude  was  toward 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  299 

Bassy's  marriage,  as  she  understood  it,  needless  to  add,  she 
had  not  been  able  to  conceal  its  indulgent  scorn  from  Bassy 
himself,  if  she  even  tried.  It  was  he  who  never  brought  up 
the  past  by  any  allusion  between  them,  while  she,  as  has 
been  said,  did  so  constantly,  almost  as  if  to  remind  him  of 
a  time  when  they  talked  of  rainbows  instead  of  fast  dyes 
for  wool  homespun,  and  compared  shades  of  conduct  instead 
of  the  relative  merits  of  hunting  dogs. 

In  simple  ways  she  was  infuriatingly  kind ;  took  his 
side  in  all  his  little  contests  with  her  father,  deprecating  the 
colonel's  man-to-man  roughness,  which  Bassy  loved. 

As  long  as  it  was  possible,  he  had  kept  the  safeguard  for 
himself  of  believing  she  had  not  been  quite  straight  with 
him  —  to  ward  oft'  admissions  he  was  afraid  of ;  but  in  the 
end  found  a  nobler  safety  in  the  truth  itself ;  in  facing  it 
with  the  knowledge  that,  to  be  worthy  of  his  best  dream  in 
her  he  had  lost,  he  must  be  true  to  the  death  to  Charlotte 
without  a  shadow  of  turning,  nor  even  yield  to  the  corrupt 
ing  weakness  of  self-pity. 

But,  hardest  trial  of  all  the  daily  trials  of  his  strength 
it  was  to  know  that  Catherine  never  could  know  the  truth ; 
to  show  himself  content  with  what  must  lower  him  in  her 
eyes ;  to  see  her  efforts  to  understand  his  choice  and  sup 
port  him  in  it  break  up  in  sudden  fits  of  scorn.  If  Charlotte 
had  not  been  such  a  prize  to  the  eye ;  if  her  outside  were 
not  always  the  first  thing  about  her  spoken  of  I  If  he  could 
be  free  from  the  dread  of  its  effect  upon  himself,  lest  his 
morning  star  of  love  die  out  in  a  flush  of  passion  ;  instead 
of  the  soul  of  his  dream,  a  dull  intoxication  of  sense. 

The  intensity  with  which  he  looked  forward  to  merging 
all  this  in  the  transports  of  battle  cannot  be  described. 


300  THE  KOYAL  AMERICANS 

None  could  mistake  the  change  in  him.  Men  who  love  their 
homes  do  not  prepare  to  leave  them  with  such  stifling,  —  not 
of  grief  but  of  a  dreadful  joy.  He  wished  to  live  and  fight 
to  the  end,  and  then,  before  the  end,  to  die. 

How  Charlotte  knew  this,  who  can  tell !  the  unhappy 
know  many  things.  The  main  cause  of  her  general  unrest 
went  too  deep  to  be  tampered  with ;  she  eased  it  through 
surface  irritants.  There  was  a  quarrel  begun  quite  openly 
in  the  first  year  of  their  marriage,  by  reason  of  Bassy's  at 
tendance  at  certain  meetings  in  the  Council  Chamber  of  the 
Green  Mountain  Tavern,  which  now  threatened  to  involve 
the  whole  area  of  unsoundness  between  them. 

Though  fully  alive  to  the  claims  of  his  own  province  on 
the  boundary  question,  and  accepting  the  tutelage  of  men 
older  than  himself  on  technical  points  of  history  and  law, 
Bassy's  personal  sympathies  were  strongly  with  the  New 
Englanders,  —  required  to  pay  twice  the  government  dues 
on  lands  they  had  every  reason  to  consider  their  own .  Though 
narrow  and  turbulent,  these  men  of  the  Hampshire  Grants 
were  clean,  straight-minded,  and  bold,  and  on  the  great  issue 
they  were  hand  to  hand  with  Bassy,  who  held  aloof  with 
little  difficulty  from  the  red-hot  Tory  landowners  on  his 
own  side  of  the  line. 

If  Charlotte  suspected  where  he  went  and  whom  he  met 
on  these  occasions,  she  passed  it  over  until  one  evening,  not 
long  before  her  little  son  was  born,  when  she  had  sat  some 
hours  awaiting  him,  with  no  better  company  than  herself. 

She  questioned  him,  and  he  told  her  where  he  had  spent 
the  evening,  naming  a  few  of  the  company. 

To  his  amazement  she  rose  up  pale  with  anger,  her  dark 
eyes  blazing. 


MEN   OF  THE   GRANTS  301 

"  Ethan  Allen !  Have  you  forgot  then,  so  soon,  who  put 
that  naughty  name  on  me  —  before  a  streetful  of  men? 
Are  they  all  your  friends?  " 

"  Not  one  of  them  is  my  friend." 

"  They  are  his  friends ;  they  heard  him  say  it.  You  go 
there  and  sit  with  them.  And  still  you  remember!  " 

"  As  I  remember  the  barking  of  a  dog !  Not  that  I  call 
Ethan  Allen  a  dog,  but  he  knew  not  what  he  was  saying 
that  day,  more  than  his  dog  would  know  why  he  barked, 
if  you  had  passed  his  master's  house.  Both  did  as  their 
training  teaches.  'Twas  a  mistaken  sense  of  duty." 

"  I  should  have  thought,"  Charlotte  pursued,  "  that  for 
you  to  meet  that  man  would  have  been  to  shoot  him 
dead." 

"  You  are  crazy,  girl !  Remember  what  men  say  of  each 
other  in  these  times.  We  are  a  deal  better  than  our  preju 
dices,  or  most  of  us  would  not  be  fit  to  live.  You  said 
yourself  when  you  told  me  of  that  —  and  it  was  nobly  done ! 
—  you  said,  quite  serious,  '  Ethan  Allen  is  a  good  man.'  " 

"  A  respectable  man  !  I  did  not  call  him '  good ' !  Nor  do 
I  know  that  he  is  respectable,  only  he  is  looked  up  to  — 
which  makes  it  all  the  meaner  to  cast  stones  at  me !  " 

"They  are  old  stones  and  very  dirty  ones.  Leave  'em 
where  they  lie.  You  suffer  in  good  company.  If  you  could 
hear  them  talk  of  General  Schuyler,  and  even  his  wife,  — 
good  God !  Yet  I  do  not  shoot  them.  They  are  men  the 
country  needs.  General  Schuyler  himself  will  need  them. 
I  tell  them  they  don't  know  him ;  and  they  say  *  you  're 
a  Yorker  and  you  know  him  too  well :  you  have  eaten  his 
bread.'  And  I  call  them  hide-bound  Yankees  all,  that  can 
see  no  good  in  anything  south  of  Wentworth's  line.  But 


302  THE   KOYAL  AMERICANS 

when  it  comes  to  fighting  —  and  we  shall  have  plenty  soon 
—  those  are  the  men  I  fight  beside." 

"  I  congratulate  you,"  she  said,  with  cool  fury  in  her 
eyes.  "  It  was  not  so  men  used  to  fight ;  to  choose  for  com 
rades  them  that  lie  about  their  friends  and  insult  their 
wives." 

"  I  will  not  say  you  are  unjust,  my  girl.  God  knows 
you  have  abundant  right  to  be!  But  I  would  not  have 
you  suffer  for  a  thing  that  cannot  touch  you.  How  can 
Allen  insult  my  wife  ?  he  does  not  know  her.  He  has 
long  forgot  what  he  said.  'T  was  only  said  of  something 
that  had  the  appearance  men  of  his  breed  cannot  bear  — " 

"  Hush !  "  she  cried,  —  "  Is  there  nothing  that  /  can't 
bear!" 

Just  so  coolly,  she  remembered,  had  Bassy  put  aside  that 
word  when  courage  was  given  her  to  speak  it  out  honestly 
on  the  night  he  asked  her  to  marry  him.  The  flame  had 
never  been  lit  in  him,  or  it  would  have  blazed  up  in  fury 
at  the  touch  upon  her  name.  She  knew  it  —  she  had  al 
ways  known  it ;  but  it  had  not  always  hurt  as  it  was  begin 
ning  to  hurt  now. 

"  That  you  can  sit  in  the  same  room,  consorting  with 
them  !  "  she  persisted  maddeningly ;  "  men  were  not  made 
to  be  so !  Even  if  you  care  nothing  for  your  wife,  would 
you  have  every  one  know  it  ?  To  be  so  callous  before  them 
all !  They  must  know  that  you  know  what  they  think  of  me." 

"  D — n  what  they  think  !  "  Bassy  shouted. 

He  got  up  violently,  went  over  to  the  other  side  of  the 
room  and  sat  down  working  his  hands  together ;  and  then 
he  came  back  ashamed,  and  once  more  tried  to  draw  her 
thoughts  into  a  saner  channel. 


MEN   OF  THE   GRANTS  303 

"  Do  I  go  to  these  men's  houses,  or  ask  them  to  mine  ? 
do  I  '  consort '  with  them  in  any  way,  shape,  or  manner, 
so  far  as  our  private  lives  are  concerned?  Ethan  Allen 
and  Ira  his  brother  and  Seth  Warner,  the  best  of  the 
three,  hold  the  same  principles  on  certain  issues  that  I 
hold.  A  time  may  come  —  and  soon  —  when  our  resolves 
shall  be  put  into  action.  Such  action  must  be  in  concert.  A 
man  can't  concert  with  men  a  hundred  miles  away.  These 
are  my  neighbors ;  they  will  resist  when  it  comes  to  re 
sistance,  and  so  shall  I ;  and  whoever  strikes  the  first 
alarm,  I  am  with  him.  General  Schuyler  knows  what  these 
men  say  of  him,  yet  he  would  lead  them  in  battle ;  and  I 
will  fight  in  their  ranks  if  they  are  first  to  go  out ;  and  if 
we  must  quarrel  about  it,  so  be  it  then !  I  have  no  reason 
to  think  I  shall  change.  But  my  personal  friends  they 
never  could  be :  their  attitude  towards  the  noble  Schuyler 
alone  would  forbid  it." 

Had  he  but  spared  that  final  clause.  But  his  touch  was 
unsure  in  dealing  with  Charlotte's  moods.  The  balance  be 
tween  their  minds  hung  too  delicately  poised  ;  the  least 
weight  on  either  side  sent  them  to  extremes.  He  had  come 
to  dread  the  shock  of  their  conflicting  temperaments,  and 
could  see  her  own  shrinking  anticipation  of  trouble  when 
ever  they  approached  a  critical  issue.  Each  had  upset  the 
other's  power  of  judicious  statement  before  the  argument 
began. 

Charlotte's  thoughts,  moreover,  were  at  this  time  wretch 
edly  unpresentable.  To  almost  any  sane  woman  the  dis 
covery,  a  year  after  marriage,  that  she  loved  her  husband 
better  than  before  would  mean  happiness ;  but  Charlotte 
was  not  any  woman.  She  had  met  Bassy's  sacrifice  of  his 


304  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

own  personal  choice  by  proudly  asserting  a  choice  of  her 
own.  If  true  then,  that  she  loved  the  colonel  best,  it  was 
only  so  because  she  had  no  knowledge  of  love  or  of  her 
self ;  she  knew  now  that  her  husband  would  have  been 
her  choice  before  any.  He  had  won  her  love  without  try 
ing  ;  she  had  tried  and  had  not  won  his.  Her  "  evil  birds  " 
were  haunting  her  again,  and  she  listened :  her  mind  was 
giving  way  to  an  insidious  jealousy,  the  most  self -destroy 
ing  —  for  her  jealousy  of  Catherine  was  without  grounds 
yet  not  without  reason. 

This  would  explain  the  coldness,  which  hurt  him,  of  her 
farewell,  and  her  passionate,  wearing  grief  —  which  he  did 
not  see  —  when  he  was  gone. 

"  Am  I  not  to  have  thy  blessing,  my  good  girl  ?  "  he 
had  said  when  the  time  came  for  leaving  her. 

His  "  my  girl "  had  a  peculiarly  tormenting  effect  upon 
her.  The  tones  of  his  voice  suggested  love,  which  she  knew 
he  could  not  give ;  and  the  word  she  wanted  never  came. 
Bassy  never  said  "  my  wife."  He  had  put  that  title  away, 
with  a  name  he  never  spoke  even  in  thought  alone. 

"  There  are  others  who  will  bless  you,"  she  retorted 
insanely ;  he  had  added  that  she  might  stretch  the  truth 
a  little  for  this  once.  "  Have  you  asked  their  blessing  at 
Yelverton  ?  Catherine  would  not  have  to  '  stretch  the 
truth ' ;  she  is  on  your  side  in  this  as  in  everything.  Per 
haps  you  have  been  there  already  ?  Or  do  you  save  them 
for  the  last?" 

The  serpents  that  had  found  the  way  to  her  defenseless 
breast  were  sticking  out  their  ugly  heads.  Bassy  was  dumb 
at  the  spectacle.  It  could  not  have  shocked  more  than  it 
surprised  him. 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  305 

"  I  ask  nothing  at  Yelverton  but  their  silence,"  he  re 
plied,  "  which  they  give  me,  in  mercy." 

"  When  you  go  there,  ask  Catherine  from  me,  if  she  be 
on  your  side  to  be  so  honestly,  as  I  am  honestly  against 
you." 

"  Are  you  still  against  me?  " 

"  My  prayer  is  that  your  life  may  be  spared  and  that 
your  cause  may  be  lost.  And  that  Ethan  Allen  may  never 
come  back  from  Ticonderoga." 

"  Ticonderoga  ?  Why  Ticonderoga  ?  "  Bassy  repeated 
speciously. 

"  I  know  where  you  are  bound,  though  you  do  not  trust 
me  to  tell  me." 

"  That  is  not  the  reason  why  I  do  not  tell  you  plans  that 
I  have  no  right  to  disclose.  I  do  trust  you.  I  know  you 
will  not  betray  my  errand,  though  you  cannot  pray  for  its 
success." 

"  Trust  nothing  but  my  helplessness  !  What  can  a  wo 
man  do  but  break  her  heart,  and  her  husband's  ? "  she 
added,  always  generous  at  a  pinch. 

"  Be  at  peace !  If  God  is  good,  He  will  find  a  way  to 
part  us  without  further  strife  between  ourselves." 

He  was  not  angry  with  her ;  he  did  not  love  her  enough 
for  that  sort  of  anger  (and  this  also  she  knew).  She  could 
only  reach  his  depths  by  reminding  him  of  some  things  he 
had  put  himself  out  of  the  way  of  thinking  on.  The  possi 
bility  of  goiL.  without  a  word  of  farewell  to  Catherine 
and  her  father  had  never  crossed  his  mind ;  but  after  the 
shame  of  this  unnatural  leave-taking,  he  could  not  bear 
the  search  of  t*iose  faithful  eyes  in  the  last  gaze  of  fare 
well.  The  colonel  might  be  misled,  but  Catherine,  —  no  I 


306  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

There  was  no  part  of  him  left  unshaken  that  could  with 
hold  his  secret  from  Catherine. 

He  rode  over  past  the  entrance.  The  gate  was  open, 
and  Catherine  stood  half-way  up  to  the  house  between  the 
noble  groups  of  forest  trees  left  as  Nature  planted  them, 
with  openings  made  by  the  axe  for  sunlight  to  stream 
through.  In  one  of  those  golden  spaces  framed  in  shadow 
she  stood,  dressed  in  white,  playing  with  her  dogs.  Sud 
denly  they  made  off  toward  the  gate  in  a  chorus  of  joyful 
yelps.  She  turned  and  saw  Bassy,  knew  what  he  was  come 
for,  and  started  to  meet  him,  smiling.  He  lifted  his  hat, 
gazed  at  her  in  a  pale  way,  fixedly,  and  rode  by. 

She  was  furious  with  the  affront.  But  recalling  his  face, 
his  stricken  look,  she  knew  that  whatever  it  meant,  it 
could  not  be  indifference. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

THE  fighting  men  of  Rutland,  Pittsford,  Middlebury, 
and  Brandon  had  been  given  their  warning.  In  little  bands 
of  twos  and  threes,  from  fields  of  spring  ploughing,  from 
wood-choppers'  camps  or  potash-burners'  clearings,  they 
were  gathering  to  the  meeting-places,  joining  numbers  as 
they  struck  into  Amherst's  road.  Bassy  and  his  comrades 
from  Bennington,  trusting  to  their  wood-craft,  took  a 
shorter,  wilder  way ;  but  all  came  in  at  last  to  the  rendez 
vous,  on  the  evening  of  May  ninth,  in  a  little  cove  on  the 
Lake  two  miles  north  of  Ticonderoga. 

Here  that  extraordinary  set  of  men  gathered  about  their 
brave  but  eccentric  leader.  Here  Allen  and  Arnold  quar 
reled,  and  compromised  by  entering  the  walls  of  the  for 
tress  when  it  was  taken,  side  by  side,  like  two  schoolboys, 
that  neither  should  miss  his  share  of  the  glory ;  but  Allen 
had  the  luck  to  furnish  the  historic  speech  for  the  occasion, 
if  luck  it  could  be  called  in  one  whose  tongue  was  even 
readier  than  his  rifle,  though  not  always  so  sure  of  its  aim. 
Before  long  Allen's  supremacy  passed  into  safer  hands. 

There  was  one  soldier's  wife,  of  the  many  who  were 
waiting  and  watching  through  the  summer  (while  a  nation 
was  born,  and  a  little  mountain-walled  community  set  up 
a  lively  and  troublesome  independence  of  its  own), — there 
was  one  woman  who  heard  with  exultant  satisfaction  of 
Allen's  defeat  at  the  election  of  officers  to  command  the 
newly  enrolled  "  Green  Mountain  Regiment."  Still  greater 
triumph  was  hers  when  she  heard  he  was  a  prisoner,  after 


308  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

his  surrender  at  Montreal,  and  on  his  way  to  England  in 
irons. 

If  Ethan  Allen  ever  thought  of  Charlotte,  it  was  kindly 
enough,  as  a  handsome  young  creature  wronged  by  a  selfish 
brute  of  a  Tory,  and  righted  out  of  the  simplicity  and  pas 
sion  of  youth  by  a  young  Whig  who  had  lived  too  much 
with  Tories. 

When  the  Vermont  militia  returned  to  their  homes  in 
November,  after  the  capitulation  of  St.  John's,  Bassy  came 
back  Lieutenant  Dunbar  in  Colonel  Seth  Warner's  regi 
ment  of  Green  Mountain  Boys,  pledged  to  no  leadership 
but  of  their  own  choosing.  Thus  he  was  parted  from  a 
broader  service  with  the  Continental  Army  under  a  friend 
and  commander  to  whom  he  was  deeply  attached  ;  thus  did 
he  find  himself,  as  the  differences  grew  wider,  classed  and 
committed  to  serve  with  that  great  man's  personal  ene 
mies.  In  part  it  was  the  fault  of  his  unhappy  impatience, 
but  environment  had  as  much  to  do  with  it :  they  were  his 
neighbors,  as  he  said,  in  a  nearer  sense  than  the  Tory  circle 
ever  could  be,  which  the  colonel  had  gathered  around  him. 

As  a  husband,  the  summer's  separation  had  brought  its 
lessons  home  to  him,  and  the  next  few  weeks  of  rest  before 
he  was  called  out  again  were  sweet  with  a  happiness  he 
could  feel  was  not  undeserved.  For  his  thoughts  of  the 
lonely  woman  he  had  left  with  his  child  in  her  arms  had 
been  tender  and  faithful  and  chastened  by  manly  self -blame ; 
his  world  was  a  bigger  world,  his  outlook  had  been  raised ; 
his  private  disagreements  with  fate  looked  small  to  him  in 
a  general  survey  of  human  trials  and  human  disappoint 
ments.  Pain  had  come  to  have  a  nobler  meaning:  something 
every  life  must  lack. 


MEN  OF  THE  GRANTS  309 

"  Happiness  is  like  the  blessed  bread  at  high  mass.  We 
have  only  a  very  little  piece,  only  on  Sunday,  and  all  the 
faithful  do  not  have  it." 

With  many  a  silent,  strong  resolve  he  took  his  "  good 
girl"  to  his  arms  once  more.  Charlotte  too  had  been  gener 
ous  in  her  thoughts  of  him.  They  were  not  cut  out  for  mean 
ness  or  small  dealing,  these  two.  The  small  every-day  shocks 
of  conflicting  habits  and  ill-matched  minds  for  the  present 
were  set  aside  ;  the  peace  of  God,  truly,  it  was,  that  abode 
with  them  for  those  few  weeks ;  and  then  came  the  second 
parting  —  this  time  a  long  one,  full  of  suffering  and  trial 
to  them  both. 

The  hardships  will  never  be  told  of  that  midwinter 
march  of  the  northern  militia  to  the  aid  of  the  ill-fated 
Canadian  expedition.  Before  May,  the  American  army, 
suffering  from  disease,  wounds,  hunger,  and  despair,  was 
scattering  in  any  direction  that  led  toward  home.  To  Colo 
nel  Warner  and  his  Green  Mountain  Boys  fell  the  honor 
of  covering  that  retreat.  Never  very  far  from  the  pursuing 
enemy,  we  find  him  gathering  up  the  sick  and  wounded, 
pausing  at  Isle  aux  Noir  to  collect  the  broken  bands,  em 
barking  on  the  Lake  in  leaky  bateaux  and  voyaging  to 
Crown  Point,  where  the  miserable  fragments  of  an  army 
rested ;  "  more  than  three  hundred  graves  "  marking  their 
brief  tarry  at  that  spot. 

So  did  the  disasters  of  1776  in  the  north  reverse  the 
previous  summer's  victories.  Yet  the  men  were  the  same, 
and  their  individual  records  showed  greater  fighting  quali 
ties  than  in  the  brilliant  exploits  of  Ticonderoga  and  Crown 
Point,  where  their  leader's  plans  were  better  laid  and  the 
strength  of  the  Provincials  not  hopelessly  overmatched. 


CHAPTER    XXXV 

ONE  afternoon  of  that  summer,  Charlotte  had  left  the 
house  empty  but  for  her  little  son  asleep  in  his  trundle- 
bed,  and  with  a  word  to  the  chore-boy  in  the  shed  to  call 
her  if  the  child  awakened,  she  climbed  a  hill  behind  the 
house  for  one  of  those  rambling  hours  out  of  doors  alone, 
that  still  were  an  occasional  necessity  with  her.  Once  or 
twice  she  circled  the  crown  of  the  hill,  which  was  covered 
with  trees ;  on  a  third  round  she  paused  to  look  out  over 
the  eastern  valley  opposed  to  the  home-fields  that  sloped 
towards  the  west.  Here  she  lingered  longer  than  she  may 
have  been  aware.  Returning,  her  first  look  showed  the 
house  in  flames,  no  one  in  sight  but  the  little  chore-boy  who 
ran  screaming  from  the  door.  His  arms  were  burdened 
with  something  —  was  it  alive  ? 

Running  as  never  in  her  life  she  had  run  before,  she 
seemed  never  to  have  reached  the  bottom  of  that  hill,  be 
cause  she  fainted  at  the  foot.  Her  little  son  was  unscathed, 
—  saved  by  a  clod  of  a  boy  too  stupid  to  know  aught  about 
the  fire  except  that  he  had  plunged  into  it  for  the  child. 

Before  night  they  had  taken  away  her  seven  months' 
hope  of  motherhood,  the  lifeless  babe  she  never  saw.  It 
was  some  time  before  she  knew  what  roof  covered  her,  or 
who  nursed  her  and  cared  for  little  "  Batty  "  :  —  Catherine, 
always  Catherine ! 

She  grew  better  physically,  but  her  thoughts  remained 
the  same.  Daily  she  watched  the  noble  loveliness  and  house 
hold  charm  of  her  who  was  the  menace,  the  mockery  of 


MEN  OF  THE   GKANTS  311 

her  life.  And  now  she  threatened  to  supplant  her  with  her 
child.  The  colonel's  home  was  hers,  he  told  her  often 
enough,  but  his  affectionate  bluffing  could  not  change  her 
decision.  Something  she  must  accept  —  she  made  it  as 
little  as  possible.  With  such  bits  of  furniture  as  she  would 
consent  to  borrow,  she  moved  into  the  old  construction 
cabin  where  she  met  her  husband  first.  It  was  semi-de 
pendence  still,  but  at  least  she  was  alone  with  her  humili 
ation.  All  she  had  been  left  in  charge  of,  gone  I  And  ready 
money  so  scarce  to  begin  again  ;  and  every  man's  patriotism 
urging  him  to  pinch  and  spare  for  the  country's  need  ! 

Bassy  did  not  return  with  the  disbanding  militia ;  his 
regiment  formed  part  of  the  garrison  that  wintered  at  Ti- 
conderoga.  In  his  letters  he  bore  the  loss  of  their  home 
without  a  word  that  Charlotte  could  have  twisted  into  a  re 
proach.  Possibly  he  was  too  careful.  She  fancied  she  could 
read  between  the  lines  an  exasperated  acceptance  of  the 
misfortune,  as  who  should  say  :  "  What  else  was  there  to 
expect !  " 

Of  the  babe  that  never  breathed,  the  little  girl  he  had 
wanted  so  much,  he  never  spoke.  Bassy  had  hoped  for  girl- 
babies,  hardly  admitting  to  himself  that  he  feared  the 
mother's  blood  in  male  children  (as  well  he  might  some  of 
his  own),  and  her  uncertain  hand  in  training  up  a  son. 
Problems  of  this  sort  do  not  occur  to  young  men  when  they 
choose  their  brides.  Bassy  of  course  had  not  chosen.  He 
had  met  his  fate,  as  he  deemed  it :  —  "  Better  love  than 
this  hath  no  man,  that  he  giveth  his  life  for  his  friends." 
Put  faith  in  place  of  "  life,"  and  the  meaning  is  not  quite 
the  same. 

That  same  winter  Catherine  by  accident  came  to  know 


312  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

the  story  of  Bassy's  marriage.  It  was  a  shock,  but  also  a 
strange  relief.  Something  lost  out  of  her  life  she  had  found 
again  —  the  jewel  of  a  friend's  character.  She  was  re 
minded  that  "  in  this  world  there  are  no  long  injustices." 
But  there  are  some  that  can  never  be  acknowledged  to  those 
who  suffer  by  them.  She  did  what  penance  she  might  in  her 
thoughts,  since  reparation  in  words  could  never  be. 

Captain  Considine  had  not  talked  in  New  York  of  the 
challenge  that  ended  in  a  wedding.  He  went  straight 
through  to  London  and  talked  there,  enlivening  many 
dinner-tables  with  his  favorite  tale  of  the  Wooing  of  the 
White  Captive.  In  due  course  the  story  reached  the  ears 
of  Miss  Sophia  Gentrey,  who  was  writing  frequently  to 
Catherine  that  winter  on  family,  which  is  to  say  money, 
matters.  Catherine  had  come  into  her  mother's  property, 
and  Miss  Sophia  was  profoundly  interested  in  the  business 
details.  She  had  altered  her  own  will,  in  her  niece's  favor, 
and  desired  Catherine  should  know  why.  Stephen,  her  idol, 
had  "  gone  mad,"  run  a  wild  course  in  London,  and  ended 
by  marrying  an  improper  person  and  bringing  her  down 
to  Littledene.  Miss  Sophia  had  crossed  him  off  her  books 
and  taken  in  his  mother  and  sisters  to  live  with  her  at  the 
Heronry,  where  they  made  each  other  excessively  uncom 
fortable. 

Her  letters  were  tiresome  reading,  but  they  broke  the 
monotony  of  trials  nearer  home. 

Colonel  Yelverton  had  been  visited  more  than  once  by 
the  Committee  of  Safety  from  the  Hampshire  side  of  the 
line.  The  men  of  the  Grants  now  claimed  all  of  New  York 
between  them  and  the  Hudson,  as  part  of  the  new  "  four 
teenth  colony  "  which  Congress  thus  far  had  refused  to 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  313 

recognize.  He  was  publicly  growling,  but  paying  for  the 
privilege  of  remaining  on  his  own  land  under  oath  of  non- 
participation  in  the  crisis.  Every  patriot  paid,  out  of  his 
poor  means,  —  why  not  this  high-fed  aristocrat  ?  —  to  sup 
port  the  militia  in  the  field. 

There  was  now  some  prospect  of  the  tables  being  turned. 
The  army  of  invasion  was  on  the  Lakes.  Burgoyne's  splen 
did  divisions  had  embarked  from  St.  John's.  By  the  mid 
dle  of  June  his  Indians  were  burning  settlers'  homes  at 
Otter  Creek  and  other  places ;  and  Colonel  Warner  was 
calling  out  volunteers  in  the  quiet,  telling  phrases  of  a 
farmer  talking  to  his  neighbors  on  his  own  doorstep. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  if  a  few  hills  of  corn  unhoed  should 
not  be  a  motive  sufficient  to  detain  men  at  home." 

When  Bassy  was  brought  home  wounded  after  the 
fight  at  Hubbardton,  the  Tory  house  that  had  sheltered 
his  family  poured  out  aid  and  comfort  to  welcome  him, 
which  went  begging  at  the  cabin  door.  The  hearts  were 
too  sore  within.  Charlotte's  pride  made  it  bitter  for  her 
to  own  how  much  the  help  was  needed ;  but  Bassy  was 
insensible  to  everything  but  pain.  Again  his  wife  was 
fated  to  encounter  the  New  England  temperament  in  dis 
charge  of  its  duty,  which  never  failed  in  her  case  to  leave 
a  wound. 

She  had  resolved  to  put  in  practice  for  her  husband's 
cure  certain  herb-remedies  the  use  of  which  she  remem 
bered  from  her  life  among  the  Indians ;  but  the  pressure 
of  feeling  at  Yelverton  forced  her  to  call  in  a  physician, 
and  the  blunt,  old-school  Yankee  practitioner,  after  smell 
ing  her  concoction,  bluntly  demanded,  "  Woman,  do  you 
want  to  poison  him  ?  "  and  pitched  the  heathen  mess,  as  he 


314  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

called  it,  out  of  doors ;  after  which  he  bled  the  depleted 
man,  physicked  him  valorously  and  left  him  a  skeleton, 
saved  by  his  constitution,  but  reduced  to  childhood  in 
mind  and  spirits,  for  the  time. 

Matters  which  in  action  he  had  been  able  to  put  aside, 
now  sat  heavy  on  his  weakness. 

He  was  a  first  lieutenant,  enrolled  in  the  regiment  that 
had  just  refused  to  obey  General  Schuyler's  order  to  join 
him  at  Stillwater.  Colonel  Stark  had  a  plan  of  his  own 
which  he  preferred  to  General  Schuyler 's.  The  Green 
Mountain  Boys,  "captains  all,"  were  standing  out  for 
recognition  as  a  separate  body  of  militia  independent  of 
New  York. 

Bassy  was  proud  of  the  fighting  record  he  shared  with 
these  men.  If  he  did  not  love  them,  he  held  them  in  re 
spect.  Colonel  Warner,  for  his  age  and  experience,  was  a 
leader  who  might  bear  the  palm.  But  through  fealty  to 
older  ties,  Bassy  suffered  keenly  in  these  days  of  idleness. 

General  Schuyler  was  now  commanding  in  the  northern 
department,  at  enormous  personal  cost  and  annoyance.  He 
knew  not  where  to  turn  for  men,  or  how  to  enforce  their 
obedience  when  he  had  them.  They  fought  a  while  and 
went  home  to  hoe  corn.  They  said  home  needed  them, 
which  was  sadly  true.  In  the  state  of  irritation  between 
the  Hampshire  men,  hugging  their  quarrel  with  New 
York,  and  the  Dutch  "patroon"  (and  member  of  the 
boundary  commission),  the  most  incredible  calumnies 
against  the  latter  were  circulated  and  believed. 

Sir  John  Johnson  had  given  his  parole  to  General 
Schuyler,  and  broken  it,  and  warned  by  Tory  friends 
in  Albany  had  escaped  arrest  and  fled  to  Canada,  where, 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  315 

at  the  head  of  his  Mohawks  and  his  Royal  Greens,  he 
hovered  a  constant  menace  to  his  old  neighbors  of  the 
Mohawk  valley.  Schuyler  was  accused  of  conniving  at  the 
escape  of  this  dangerous  enemy,  because  he  had  married 
his  cousin  !  He  was  said  to  have  taken  money  for  the 
evacuation  of  the  northern  forts.  Bassy  heard  these  accu 
sations  repeated  now,  at  a  time  when  they  threatened  to 
break  down  the  country's  defense,  and  was  shamed  by 
them  through  the  men  with  whom  he  was  appointed  to 
serve. 

It  was  too  late  to  join  other  organizations.  The  enemy 
was  at  their  doors. 

General  Schuyler  himself  was  setting  the  finest  exam 
ple  of  forbearance  on  personal  and  local  issues,  for  the 
sake  of  union  in  the  common  cause.  Often,  though,  his 
manner  in  doing  it  bordered  on  that  condescension  which 
drove  the  New  Englanders  back  upon  their  taunts  and 
stupid  slanders.  He  did  not  always  recognize  a  haughti 
ness  in  hob-nails  equal  to  his  own.  "  We  must  forgive," 
he  wrote,  "  the  ignorance,  envy,  and  prejudice  of  our  mis 
guided  friends."  Nobly  he  did  forgive,  chivalrously  he 
acted  up  to  his  own  ideals. 

With  such  an  example,  what  could  Bassy  do  but  hold 
fast  where  he  had  put  his  hand  to  the  plough  ?  Yet  for  a 
young  man  unaccustomed  to  divide  his  allegiance,  it  was 
a  bitter  fight. 

As  Charlotte  had  expressed  herself  so  clearly  opposed 
to  his  views  of  public  duty,  he  did  not  seek  her  sympathy. 
She,  poor  girl,  failing  to  extend  her  imagination  beyond 
her  own  private  concerns,  believed  him  to  be  brooding 
over  the  calamity  she  had  brought  upon  him,  and  credited 


316  THE  EOYAL  AMERICANS 

him  with  a  silence  of  recrimination  of  which  he  was  in« 
capable. 

On  the  day  he  first  sat  up,  free  from  fever,  she  said, 
after  waiting  long  for  him  to  speak,  "You  never  ask  me 
how  it  came  to  happen  ?  " 

"  How  what  came  to  happen  ?  " 

"  The  fire.  You  never  ask  who  was  to  blame." 

"  How  can  it  matter  ?  Fires  do  not  start  themselves. 
Somebody  was  careless,  I  suppose." 

"  I  was.  It  was  my  own  fault.  I  had  been  ironing  — 
some  little  frocks.  They  hung  by  the  fire  to  air.  I  left  the 
door  open  that  Benny  outside  should  hear  the  boy  if  he 
cried.  The  wind  did  the  rest ;  but  I  hung  them  too  close. 
They  were  the  little  dresses  I  had  washed  to  put  away 
for  —  It  was  a  very  pretty  baby,  they  said,  for  seven 
months.  I  wish  I  could  have  died !  " 

When  a  woman  opens  her  wounds  in  such  wise  to  the 
man  she  loves,  there  is  but  one  way  to  comfort  her.  If 
Bassy  had  loved  his  wife  with  a  frank  and  open  fondness, 
or  even  if  he  had  been  in  health  capable  of  lending  his 
health  to  her,  his  arms  would  have  opened  and  gathered 
her  into  the  only  place  of  consolation.  But  he  merely 
uttered  a  sort  of  groan,  and  sat  with  head  bowed,  not  look 
ing  at  her.  When  he  did  look,  she  was  gone  from  his  side. 

That  evening  he  made  her  some  reparation  —  though 
it  bred  mischief  he  little  dreamed  of.  She  had  helped  him 
from  his  chair  to  the  bed,  and  went  back  and  seated  her 
self  by  the  fire.  Her  little  son  was  asleep.  The  evening 
tasks  were  done. 

"  Charlotte,  come  and  sit  by  me.  I  am  not  going  to 
sleep.  Come  and  tell  me  what  you  are  thinking  about." 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  317 

She  came  and  sat  beside  him,  allowing  him  to  take  her 
hand  and  pass  his  own  gently  up  and  down  her  arm 
where  it  was  bare. 

"  Well  ?  "  he  asked,  presently. 

"  Well,"  she  answered,  "  what  is  it  you  want  to  know  ?  " 

"  What  it  is  that  you  want  to  know  ?  There  is  something 
on  your  mind.  Be  open  with  me  if  you  can." 

"  The  question  is,  can  you  be  open  with  me  ?  Can  we 
talk  about  the  war  ?  " 

"  Assuredly.  Ask  me  whatever  you  wish." 

"  Well,  then,  how  is  it  to  end?  When  is  it  to  end?  " 

"  It  has  barely  begun.  It  will  end  when  we  have  tired 
them  out,  or  they  have  worn  us  out  —  and  then  there  will 
still  be  a  few  of  us  left  —  to  carry  the  struggle  on  into  the 
next  generation.  We  shall  all  be  Americans  then  !  " 

"  You  never  will,  then,  give  up  ?  " 

"  Never !  If  we  are  conquered  in  New  York  and  in  New 
England  and  in  Virginia  and  in  the  South,  there  is  room 
enough  to  the  westward.  If  I  am  alive,  and  the  cause  be 
lost  to  the  Colonies  here,  I  will  take  you  and  the  boy  and 
march  across  the  mountains  beyond  the  Alleghanies,  and 
make  a  beginning  there.  You  slept  on  the  ground  in  the 
forest  when  you  were  a  child,  and  so  did  I.  We  will  take 
our  little  son  and  sleep  on  the  ground  with  him ;  but  we 
will  be  free.  That  is  one  way  for  it  to  end  —  for  me. 
Would  that  part  us,  I  wonder? " 

A  shudder  passed  over  her.  "  For  the  sake  of  that  I 
would  give  up  any  cause  the  world  has  ever  known ! " 
She  flung  herself  on  her  knees  beside  the  bed,  and  opened 
her  grand  womanly  arms  in  a  passionate  gesture  of  invi 
tation.  "  Oh,  let  it  be  now !  You  are  sick ;  you  are  not  fit 


318  THE   KOYAL   AMERICANS 

to  fight.  Come  now  and  be  free  with  me  !  Once  I  was  free. 
My  God,  let  me  be  free  once  more  with  those  I  love !  " 

There  was  no  response,  such  as  she  had  wildly  hoped 
for.  Abashed  and  feeling  himself  false  to  the  core,  Bassy 
answered  as  he  could. 

"  I  said  if  we  were  beaten.  But  we  are  a  long  way  from 
that,  Charlotte,  —  do  not  misunderstand  me  !  " 

She  would  hear  no  more.  She  sprang  away  from  his  side, 
out  of  the  house  into  the  open  starlight  and  the  soft,  strong 
mountain  wind.  It  was  after  midnight  when  she  came  in 
again  and  threw  herself  down  on  the  settle  and  slept  or 
watched  till  dawn. 

So  far  as  one  human  being  totally  separated  from  an 
other  may  show  kindness,  she  was  kind  to  him,  but  never 
approached  him  again  with  the  least  sign  of  personal  inter 
est  or  affection.  He  might  have  been  her  lodger,  or  she  his 
servant  paid  to  attend  to  his  material  wants. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

BY  the  first  week  in  August,  General  Stark,  commanding 
three  battalions  of  New  Hampshire  and  the  (now  called) 
**  Vermont "  militia,  had  moved  forward  to  Bennington. 
The  following  week  found  the  enemy  so  near  and  threaten 
ing  in  such  force,  that  Colonel  Warner's  regiment  at  Man 
chester  and  all  militia  of  the  adjacent  counties  were  ordered 
to  march  to  the  support  of  Stark  in  the  pitched  battle  now 
impending. 

Hereupon  Lieutenant  Dunbar  joined  his  company,  in 
advance  of  his  fitness  for  service,  as  the  women  warned 
him.  A  rain  set  in.  He  had  gone  off  hastily  equipped. 
His  wife  borrowed  a  horse  at  Yelverton,  made  up  a  bundle 
of  warmer  clothing,  and  on  a  dark,  wet  afternoon  rode 
over  to  leave  it  for  him  at  the  camp. 

General  Stark's  little  army  lay  at  a  farm  near  Sancoick, 
while  Colonel  Baum  with  his  veterans,  Indians,  and  Cana 
dians  had  intrenched  himself  and  planted  a  fieldpiece  or 
two  north  of  the  bridge  by  which  one  of  the  country  roads 
crossed  the  Walloomsac.  Thus  the  armies  were  not  more 
than  two  miles  apart,  invisible  to  each  other  by  reason  of 
a  hill  between,  both  waiting  for  the  rain  to  cease. 

As  she  turned  into  a  pent-road  leading  to  the  camp, 
Charlotte  met  a  farmer  driving  stock,  who  stared,  seeing 
a  woman  on  such  a  day  riding  alone,  and  asked  if  she  was 
a  refugee.  Told  she  was  not,  he  pointed  to  her  bundle. 
"  You  're  liable  to  git  that  wet  if  you  are  goin'  far  with  it. 
Aiming  for  anywheres  up  nigh  our  folk's  camp,  be  ye  ?  " 


320  THE   KOYAL  AMERICANS 

"  I  am  on  that  road,"  Charlotte  assented  coldly. 

"  'T  wun't  hurt  ye,  will  it,  to  say  yes  or  no  ?  There  's  a 
message  Gineral  Stark  had  ought  to  git  this  evenin'.  I  'd 
take  it  myself  if  I  wan't  cumbered  with  these  fool  creeturs. 
Hi !  git  back  there,  consarn  ye !  Where  ye  bound  for 
now  ?  "  He  drove  his  horse  in  front  of  Charlotte's  in  pur 
suit  of  a  stray  steer.  "  Who  've  you  got  up  there  belong 
ing  to  ye?  Lieutenant  Dunbar?  He  your  husband?  I 
know  the  man  well !  "  Her  questioner  looked  critically 
at  the  stormy  roses  that  burned  in  Charlotte's  cheeks. 
So,  you  're  his  wife,  are  ye  ?  " 

"  I  am  out  on  business  and  I  want  to  get  home,  please." 

"  Waal,  so  do  I.  There  's  more  business  afoot  to-night 
than  yours  or  mine,  young  madam.  This  here  's  the  mes 
sage  :  you  give  it  to  your  husband  and  tell  him  to  give 
it  to  the  gineral  right  straight.  There 's  a  bunch  o'  militia 
—  Stark  '11  know  who  —  that 's  liable  to  git  into  a  tumble 
mix-up  if  they  hit  the  cross-roads  after  dark.  Nigh  a  hun 
dred  head  o'  stock 's  been  drove  across  the  ford  since  las' 
Sabbath.  There  's  no  road  left.  If  the  Massachusetts  boys 
stumble  onto  the  bridge  road  Stark  may  whistle  for  'em. 
He  knows  about  the  Cajians  camped  below  the  bridge. 
What  he  wants  to  know  is  —  those  boys  are  hustlin'  in 
to-night,  and  somebody  ought  to  meet  'em  or  the  Hes 
sians  '11  gobble  'em  up  'fore  ye  can  say  Jack  Robinson ! 
Before  eight  o'clock,  mind  ye.  Waal,  good-evenin',  sister. 
Glad  I  met  ye." 

For  a  moment  Charlotte  did  not  stir,  but  seeing  the 
man  look  back  and  watch  her,  she  started  her  horse  and 
cantered  on. 

The  lane  turned  in  toward  the  farm ;  branching  from 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  321 

it  a  blinder  track  met  one  of  the  main  roads  intersecting 
the  Massachusetts  line. 

She  stopped  her  horse  again,  considering.  Her  thoughts 
were  in  a  tumult.  Cumulative  causes  little  by  little  had 
come  to  a  final  head,  and  her  breath,  striving  hard,  shook 
her  body. 

"Voice  of  a  fish-horn!  If  they  beat,  all  my  English 
will  be  driven  out.  There  will  be  only  Yankees !  I  shall 
live  with  them  all  my  life !  The  colonel  will  be  ruined. 
They  will  drive  him  away  and  take  his  house ;  and  Cath 
erine  will  be  left  as  Lady  Johnson  is,  for  her  friends  to 
take  care  of.  Bassy  will  say :  '  It  is  our  turn  now ' !  He 
will  take  care  of  —  my  «  sister ' !  Sooner  will  I  die  !  Better 
that  we  all  die  —  honest,  while  we  can  ! " 

Her  horse  splashed  into  running  water.  A  ditch  in  the 
next  field  had  forced  its  way  under  the  rails  of  a  broken 
fence  and  channeled  the  road. 

She  turned  in  close  to  the  fence,  loosed  her  bundle 
and  tossed  it  over  into  a  deep  pool  on  the  other  side.  The 
water  checked  and  swirled  with  a  quivering  motion.  She 
watched  the  familiar  garments  unroll  one  by  one  and 
spread  on  the  shaken  pool.  With  her  arm  across  her  face, 
sobbing,  she  rode  away  —  but  not  toward  the  farm. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

THE  general's  amateur  scouts  had  kept  him  advised  of 
the  Berkshire  boys'  rapid  progress,  and  the  need  of  pre 
caution  had  impressed  the  military  as  well  as  the  bucolic 
mind.  Lieutenant  Dunbar  was  the  volunteer  chosen  to 
guide  the  Massachusetts  colonel  into  camp. 

He  declined  the  two  privates  offered  him  as  support. 
Taking  the  cockade  off  his  hat,  with  a  covered  lantern 
and  a  plain  homespun  cloak  wrapping  him  to  his  knees, 
he  galloped  away,  looking  like  any  other  respectable  young 
farmer  hurrying  home  to  supper. 

With  a  practiced  eye  he  picked  up  the  fresh  hoof-prints 
on  the  road  where  his  wife  had  passed.  He  knew  them  as 
he  knew  his  own  hand.  They  were  the  tracks  of  Catherine's 
Narragansett  pacer,  a  colt  of  Melissa's  that  he  had  bred 
himself.  He  recognized  the  peculiarity  of  shoeing  to  cor 
rect  a  tendency  in  the  hind-feet  to  interfere. 

Though  in  haste,  he  stopped  to  examine  that  slough  by 
the  broken  fence  where  the  hoof-prints  halted  and  moved 
about  uncertainly.  They  led  him  close  to  the  rails.  Look 
ing  over,  he  recognized  his  own  garments  twisting  and 
knotting  themselves  around  the  cross-stakes  ;  the  sleeves 
of  his  coat  had  caught  around  them  like  feeble  arms  in  a 
clutch  of  despair.  It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the 
sensation  it  gave  him  to  watch  the  gyrations  of  this  de 
risive  self,  the  part  of  him  which  a  man  steps  out  of  and 
leaves  behind  him  in  the  privacy  of  his  home,  his  bedroom, 
in  the  custody  of  his  wife.  He  was  resolved  that  nothing 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  323 

short  of  his  orders  should  part  him  from  those  tracks 
which  pointed  to  this  sodden  mystery. 

Mockingly  they  led  on  through  the  dusk  and  the  thicken 
ing  storm,  straight  on,  the  way  he  was  going.  At  the  forks 
he  lost  them  in  a  wide  sea  of  mud  that  puddled  all  roads 
into  one. 

Here  he  was  alarmed  to  discover  that  the  men  he  was 
there  to  warn  had  arrived  before  him,  and  taken  the  wrong 
road.  He  leaped  a  fence  and  struck  across  fields,  saving  a 
wide  loop  and  coming  up  with  the  sound,  ahead  of  him,  of 
three  hundred  slopping,  squshing  boots,  the  squeaking  of 
shoulder-belts,  the  grunt  of  tired  chests  and  the  smothered 
rattle  of  arms. 

Returning  to  the  road  he  caught  up  with  the  rear  files. 
His  person  was  held  and  his  name  passed  up.  In  a  mo 
ment  he  was  delivering  his  message  to  Colonel  Simonds, 
under  the  light  of  a  cloaked  lantern  and  the  scrutiny  of  a 
remarkably  keen  pair  of  eyes. 

"  Lieutenant  Dunbar  is  your  name  ?  I  received  your 
message  half  an  hour  ago,  lieutenant.  It  contradicts  the 
one  you  bring  me  now.  What  do  you  make  of  that,  sir?" 

"  No  other  person  has  had  orders  to  meet  you,  colonel. 
I  fear  you  have  been  deceived,  and  I  implore  you  at  once 
to  get  back  on  the  right  road.  Every  step  you  take  in  this 
direction  is  into  the  enemy's  lines.  Whoever  gave  you  that 
message  in  my  name  has  seen  to  it  that  Baum  is  ready  for 
you." 

"  H'm  !  "  said  Simonds.  "  You  bring  no  letter,  you  say, 
nothing  from  Stark's  own  hand  ?  " 

"We  are  almost  within  hailing  distance  of  the  enemy. 
'T  was  thought  safer  to  omit  the  written  word." 


324  THE  KOYAL  AMERICANS 

"  So  said  my  first  messenger.  Fetch  me  that  woman 
who  calls  herself  Mistress  Dunbar  !  Either  she  or  you, 
lieutenant,  is  my  prisoner.  Both,  I  guess,  till  we  have 
searched  this  matter." 

"  There  is  no  Mistress  Dunbar  known  about  here  except 
my  wife,  colonel." 

"  Why,  so  the  lady  claims  to  be." 

"  She 's  give  us  the  slip,  colonel.  Neatest  thing  you  ever 
see.  '  Who  halts  this  column  ? '  some  one  asks.  She  heard 
'em  say  *  Lieutenant  Dunbar  from  General  Stark';  an* 
off  she  shoots  like  lightnin'.  She  lep  that  fence  like  a  fox 
and  took  across  the  field  —  " 

"  Show  me  the  field,"  said  Bassy.  "  I  will  go  under 
guard,  colonel,  but  give  me  five  minutes  in  that  field.  And 
for  God's  sake  get  back  as  fast  as  you  can  wheel  your  men. 
I  will  meet  you  at  the  cross-roads." 

The  flight  of  his  supposed  wife  gave  force  to  Dunbar's 
warning.  Nor  could  one  accustomed  to  reading  faces  doubt 
there  was  deep  disturbance,  not  of  guilt,  under  the  pallor 
of  this  young  man  who  surrendered  himself  unarmed  to 
the  colonel's  precautions,  asking  only  to  see  the  backs  of 
the  Berkshire  men  before  following  up  the  treachery  he 
scented. 

But  Colonel  Simon  ds  thought  best  to  keep  him  with  the 
column,  with  a  musket  at  his  back,  till  Stark' s  camp  came 
in  sight,  twinkling  silent  in  the  rainy  fields. 

"  Now,  between  ourselves,  lieutenant,  for  your  own  sake 
—  would  you  mind  telling  me  what  for  a  looking  woman 
your  wife  is  ?  Has  she  —  " 

"  Colonel,"  said  Bassy,  "  if  we  are  both  alive  when  the 
fight  is  over  I  trust  you  will  do  Mistress  Dunbar  and  my- 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  325 

self  the  honor  to  take  dinner  with  us.  The  rider  of  that 
horse  shall  be  in  Stark's  camp  by  daybreak,  if  he  have 
not  fled  the  country." 

"He?" 

"  How  do  you  know  it  was  a  woman  ?  " 

"  What  have  I  got  eyes  in  my  head  for  ?  The  Lord 
does  n't  waste  a  face  like  that,  splicing  it  onto  a  man-body. 
I  don't  say  she 's  your  wife,  Dunbar,  but  if  she  be  not  a 
woman  and  a  plaguy  handsome  one,  then  am  I  not  a  man 
with  a  wife  of  my  own  to  pray  for  us  boys  to-morrow ! " 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

DURING  that  night  the  storm  increased  in  violence,  nor 
abated  with  the  light  of  day.  Rain  fell  in  torrents,  through 
which  Colonel  Baum  kept  a  force  of  spaders  at  work 
strengthening  his  intrenchments,  while  Stark,  in  confer 
ence  with  the  Council  of  Safety,  planned  the  next  day's 
attack. 

The  household  at  Yelverton  rose  late  that  dark,  midsum 
mer  morning.  Catherine's  first  words  to  her  father,  after 
she  kissed  him,  were  of  the  little  family  in  the  cabin  at 
their  gates. 

"  I  heard  poor  little  Batty-boy  crying  so  long  and  so 
hard  in  the  night  —  or  perhaps  it  was  n't  night,  but  I 
was  in  bed  with  my  window  open  to  listen  to  the  rain. 
I  wonder  if  anything  was  wrong  with  him?  Have  you 
heard  from  Charlotte  this  morning  ?  " 

"  I  know  she  brought  Bobolink  in,  but  the  stable-men 
were  in  bed.  They  thought  she  had  stayed  in  camp  on 
account  of  the  rain.  She  must  have  come  in  after  ten 
o'clock  and  put  him  up  herself.  Dare  say  the  boy  was 
awake  and  felt  lonesome." 

"  Why  could  n't  she  have  left  him  with  me  ?  "  Cath 
erine  sighed.  "  We  don't  get  on  together  —  not  one  bit, 
daddy.  I  've  lost  my  touch  with  Charlotte.  'T  is  as  if  an 
acid  turned  everything  sour  in  her  mind,  whenever  she 
comes  near  me." 

"  It 's  all  nonsensical,  all  of  it !  —  she  alone  in  that 
log  shanty,  we  with  more  room  up  here  than  we  know 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  327 

what  to  do  with.  This  house  was  built  for  children  and 
children's  children." 

"  You  made  her  your  child,  papa,  but  I  came  too  late 
to  make  her  my  sister.  Now  the  door  is  closed.  That 's 
the  whole  secret  of  it." 

"  Bosh  !  stop  thy  nonsense  and  come  kiss  me,  girl.  It 
was  all  John  Johnson's  fault." 

"  I  shall  not  kiss  you  if  you  say  that,  for  that 's  silly. 
Who  is  John  Johnson  that  he  should  be  responsible  for 
our  lives  ?  Let  him  keep  his  place." 

"  He  has  found  his  place,"  said  the  colonel,  promptly 
losing  his  temper.  "  He  's  the  very  man  for  them  in  Can 
ada.  Takes  a  cad  and  a  brute  combined  to  carry  out  Ger- 
maine's  policy  in  this  infernal  war.  'T  is  a  new  style  of 
fighting  for  the  British  army  —  leading  savages  to  your 
old  neighbor's  doors  to  murder  them  in  their  beds." 

Catherine  listened  with  impatience.  "  The  war  and 
John  Johnson,"  she  thought,  "  will  turn  my  father's 
brain." 

"  Let  me  ask  you  one  question,  papa  ?  Are  you  not  able 
to  help  Charlotte  with  money  ?  " 

"  Only  by  being  mighty  sly  about  it.  Charlotte  's  no 
woman  of  business,  —  but  I  have  to  be  careful  for  other 
reasons." 

Catherine's  question  had  not  helped  the  colonel's  tem 
per  any. 

"  There  are  such  things  as  marriage  portions  ?  "  she 
ventured.  ' 

"  It  was  n't  a  '  marriage.'  They  were  married.  Nothing 
done  as  it  should  have  been.  If  that  was  n't  Johnson's 
fault,  whose  was  it  ?  They  were  married  to  save  something 


328  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

worse,  if  there  is  anything  worse.  Afterward,  Bassy 
would  n't  hear  to  any  settlements.  Said  he  'd  nothing  to 
settle  on  a  wife  but  the  work  of  his  hands.  My  money 
shouldn't  come  into  the  transaction.  He  preferred  the 
American  way.  Now  they  have  it  in  full  force." 

"  There  are  happy  wives  in  America,"  said  Catherine, 
flushing  up.  "  There  were  happy  wives,  —  and  there  are 
proud  ones  to-day,  doing  double  work  at  home  for  the  sake 
of  what  their  husbands  are  doing." 

"  Charlotte  's  not  proud  of  what  her  husband  is  doing. 
That  is  my  opinion." 

"  No ;  and  for  that  reason  poverty  and  loneliness  must 
come  hard.  Do  help  her,  papa  —  anyway.  Never  mind 
the  '  reasons '  —  " 

The  colonel  jumped  up  testily  and  went  to  the  window. 
"  I  should  like  to  know  why  I  am  honored  with  a  man 
with  a  musket,  parading  in  front  of  my  house  this  rainy 
day  !  Do  they  want  to  keep  me  from  wetting  my  feet  ?  or 
are  they  protecting  us  from  the  '  Army  of  Invasion  ' !  " 

Catherine  rose  up  from  the  table.  She  had  lost  her 
color. 

"  I  thought  I  need  not  call  your  attention  to  it  before 
breakfast,  father,  but  I  started  to  go  down  to  the  cabin 
to  see  Charlotte,  and"  —  the  girl  giggled  nervously  — 
"  and  one  of  those  men  with  a  musket  placed  it  so  — 
right  in  front  of  me.  He  said  he  objected  to  my  leaving 
the  house  !  " 

"  Who  said  ?  "  the  colonel  repeated,  loud  enough  for  the 
man  outside  to  hear.  "  Who  gave  the  fellow  that  order?" 

"That  I  did  not  ask.  He  said  —  " 

A  loud  tap  with  the  butt  of  his  weapon  on  the  window- 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  329 

pane  called  her  attention  to  the  man,  looking  in.  He  ges 
tured  to  show  there  was  some  one  at  the  front  door  and 
started  around  the  house  on  a  run  in  that  direction. 

"Stop,"  said  the  colonel,  "I'll  go  myself.  Tell  that 
fellow  to  keep  back." 

He  referred  to  his  own  servant  hurrying  to  answer  the 
knock  that  immediately  followed. 

Catherine,  listening  at  the  dining-room  door,  was  re 
lieved  to  the  point  of  laughter,  almost  of  tears,  to  recognize 
Bassy's  voice.  He  entered,  her  father  preceding  him. 

Oddly,  the  man  with  the  musket  seemed  determined  to 
follow,  but  was  induced  by  Bassy  to  retire  and  stay  outside. 

"  Well,"  said  she, "  I  did  not  think  to  see  you  again  till 
after  we  had  begun  killing  each  other  in  earnest ! " 

Bassy  did  not  smile  in  response  to  her  affected  spright- 
liness,  which  she  let  drop  suddenly  on  looking  in  his  face. 
She  was  indeed  shocked  at  his  devastated  appearance. 
Even  her  father,  less  observing,  was  evidently  struck  with 
it.  He  placed  one  hand  on  the  young  man's  shoulder  af 
fectionately,  as  often  he  had  done  before.  Bassy  moved 
away  from  the  caress.  "Catherine,"  he  said,  almost  im 
ploringly,  "  will  you  permit  me  to  ask  you  —  I  would  speak 
with  your  father  one  moment  by  ourselves." 

"  Most  certainly,"  cried  Catherine. 

"  Stay,"  her  father  interfered.  "  Whatever  you  have  for 
me,  Bassy,  must  come  to  us  both  in  the  end.  You  are  here 
on  no  pleasant  errand,  I  am  able  to  gather." 

"  You  are  right,  sir.  It  is  my  duty  to  inform  you  that 
by  order  of  General  Stark  and  the  Council  of  Safety  your 
household  for  the  present  will  be  detained  within  doors, 
and,  colonel,  you  are  under  arrest." 


330  THE   KOYAL  AMERICANS 

"  On  what  charge  ?  " 

"  Sir,  of  breaking  your  oath  of  a  non-participant,  — 
'  neither  aiding  nor  communicating  with  the  enemy,  actively 
or  in  secret,  conformable  to  the  terms  of  the  agreement 
signed  by  you  and  sworn  to,  last  November,  before  the 
Council  of  Safety  holding  jurisdiction  in  this  county.' ' 

Bassy  read  the  above  aloud  from  a  paper  in  his  hand. 
The  hand  shook  and  his  face  was  deathly  white. 

"  It  would  be  interesting  to  learn  who  does  hold  juris 
diction  in  this  county,  but  the  charge  I  deny  in  toto  !  And 
I  consider  that  man  insults  me  who  permits  himself  outside 
his  sworn  duty  to  insinuate  such  a  thing.  Do  you  express 
your  own  conviction,  Lieutenant  Dunbar,  in  this  business?" 

"  Far  from  it,  sir,  thank  God  !  Yet  these  are  my  orders. 
I  might  have  refused  them  and  taken  the  consequences, 
and  another  would  have  done  the  work  with  a  better  will. 
Yet  I  asked  the  privilege  of  being  the  man.  I  think  you 
must  know  why,  sir  ?  " 

"  We  shall  not  quarrel  with  an  old  friend  in  these  times 
because  of  his  orders,  shall  we,  Catherine?  But  what  do 
they  mean  by  all  this  rigmarole?  Either  I  have  done  some 
thing  or  I  have  not  ?  " 

"  The  charge  is  the  same  which  hath  come  home  to  my 
own  door,  to  my  own  —  wife,"  said  Bassy,  with  a  broken 
look  at  Catherine. 

She  went  away  and  seated  herself  where  she  could  not 
see  his  face. 

"And  the  evidence?"  said  the  colonel,  pale  and  sick. 
He  thought  of  the  horse  out  of  his  own  stable  brought 
back  at  night,  and  the  child  in  the  empty  house  crying  for 
its  mother. 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  331 

"  The  evidence  I  have  the  misfortune  to  have  furnished 
myself.  I  am  my  wife's  accuser  and  the  means  of  her  ar 
rest.  I  come  from  her  but  now.  She  is  truthful  and  brave 
to  meet  her  punishment,  charging  no  one  with  any  share 
in  what  she  has  done,  though  the  chance  has  been  held  out 
to  her." 

"  You  mean  they  encourage  her  to  throw  it  on  me  and 
she  won't  ?  She  is  right  —  and  I  would  n't  take  it.  Not  to 
save  the  wife  I  gave  you,  Bassy,  out  of  my  own  house,  will 
I  charge  myself  with  breaking  my  word  of  honor.  What 
has  she  done,  in  God's  name  ?  " 

"  It  was  not,  she  says,  deliberate.  Accident  gave  her  the 
opportunity." 

Bassy  described  the  events  of  the  evening  before,  his 
search  in  the  field  for  the  hoof-prints,  the  easy  tracking 
home,  and  what  he  found  there. 

"  She  is  in  a  state  of  mind  in  which  I  fear  to  leave  her 
long  alone.  Yet  I  am  unable  to  help  her  now,"  he  concluded 
wearily.  "  I  did  say,  I  own  it,  some  grievous  things  when 
this  treachery  met  me  at  my  very  door,  and  I  saw  how  it 
would  drag  in  others.  To  any  who  know  Colonel  Yelver- 
ton,  her  denial  were  needless,  yet  they  believe —  are  anxious 
to  believe,  I  think  —  that  my  wife  is  but  a  tool.  Riding  a 
horse  out  of  your  stable,  borrowed,  as  your  grooms  say, 
with  your  knowledge.  They  claim  she  is  but  lying  now 
in  her  benefactor's  defense.  When  I  saw  how  it  looked  all 
around,  I  spoke  as  I  need  not  have  done.  It  will  break  up 
our  home.  But  that 's  the  least  of  it.  Death  might  do  that." 

Bassy  stared  with  bloodshot  eyes  at  the  rain-washed 
window-panes.  The  man  in  the  wet  outside  watched  him 
curiously.  No  one  in  the  room  was  aware  of  him. 


332  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  I  do  not  blame  you  one  iota,"  said  the  colonel.  "  A 
man  will  give  a  woman  his  money  or  his  life,  but  his  honor 
—  if  he  lets  her  touch  that,  he 's  the  same  as  she  is." 

"  She  must  be  mad,"  Catherine  half  whispered,  awe 
struck  at  the  completeness  of  this  calamity  that  embraced 
them  all. 

"  She  is  not  mad,"  Bassy  explained  with  a  man's  ten 
dency  to  call  things  by  their  names.  "  But  she  sees  only  one 
thing  at  once.  For  the  time,  that  to  her  is  the  whole." 

"  Why,  that  is  being  mad  !  "  Catherine  insisted.  "  Per 
sons  with  a  mind  like  that  are  the  same  as  children  or  mad 
folk." 

"  In  that  case,  restraint  may  be  called  for."  Bassy  spoke 
with  dry  deliberation.  "  It  has  become  a  part  of  my  duty 
to  place  her,  since  I  cannot  answer  for  what  she  may  do, 
under  surveillance,  at  least  for  the  present.  We  have  a 
battle  before  us.  May  I  ask  of  you,  colonel,  this  last  gen 
erosity,  —  to  give  Charlotte  the  shelter  of  your  house  — 
which  I  have  entered  this  morning  with  armed  men  !  " 

"  Why,  good  God  !  my  house  is  hers,  if  I  have  a  house ! 
You  married  her  out  of  it  —  I  don't  forget  how  !  I  always 
said,  however  the  girl  turned  out,  I  'd  see  her  through  to 
the  end.  I  ought  perhaps  to  lie  for  her.  But  I  stop 
there.  Now,  what  do  your  friends  propose  to  do  with 
me,  Bassy,  my  lad !  Never  be  ashamed  of  your  work ! 
Out  with  it !  " 

The  cheery  kindness  in  the  colonel's  voice,  his  smile  of 
old  covering  the  unaccustomed  paleness  of  distress,  broke 
down  the  young  man's  self-control.  Not  strong  from  re 
cent  wounds  and  illness,  hearing  in  memory  the  words 
of  his  last  cruel  interview  with  his  wife  and  the  prattle 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  333 

of  his  little  boy,  with  whom  he  must  part  in  parting  from 
her  —  what  wonder  he  gave  way  ? 

A  hard,  male  sob  tore  out  of  him  ;  he  hurried  blindly 
from  the  room. 

At  once  the  rural  guard  ran  to  the  front  entrance  and 
burst  open  the  door.  Bassy  met  and  stopped  him  there. 

"  I  want  to  know,  Lieutenant  Dunbar  !  Be  you  a-trying 
to  arrest  your  friend  here  the  way  they  took  up  Sir  John 
Johnson  ?  If  you  be,  us  fellers  outside  here  kin  help  you 
some.  The  shay  's  hitched  up.  Time  we  was  on  the  rud 
(road).  Better  make  short  work  of  your  leave-takin's.  It 's 
gettin'  some  monotonous,  trampin'  gravel  in  the  rain." 

"  Then  come  inside,"  said  Bassy. 

He  stepped  to  the  dining-room  door.  Catherine  was 
kneeling  between  her  father's  knees,  their  arms  locked 
about  each  other.  They  were  facing  the  facts  now  :  this 
was  their  real  farewell. 

"  I  have  taken  the  liberty,  colonel,  to  ask  my  friends 
to  step  in  out  of  the  rain."  Bassy  spoke  distinctly,  turn 
ing  his  eyes  away.  "  They  are  waiting  to  escort  you  to 
Manchester  jail.  I  have  kept  you  too  long  talking  of  my 
own  affairs,  when  you  might  have  been  preparing  for  your 
journey." 

Catherine  sprang  up,  her  face  aflame.  He  took  her  hands 
and  kept  them  forcibly  in  his. 

"  Let  me  say  to  you  :  you  will  only  add  to  his  anxieties  if 
you  insist  on  going  with  him."  Bassy  thought  he  saw  some 
such  determination  in  her  smile.  "  There  is  no  way  for  you 
to  go  at  present.  It  is  not  a  fit  place  for  women." 

"  She  shall  not  go ! "  said  the  colonel  in  a  voice  of  wrath 
that  might  have  broken  else  in  a  weakness  like  to  Bassy's. 


334  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  I  had  not  thought  of  it,"  Catherine  protested,  "  know 
ing  my  father  !  There  is  some  one  else  who  needs  me  here. 
She  called  me  sister  once,  Bassy.  Whatever  we  call  it  now, 
sisters  we  are  in  misfortune  and  disgrace.  You  will  let  me 
keep  her  here  — «  under  surveillance  '  —  and  the  boy  ?  " 

"  God  bless  you  !  "  he  said,  "  to-morrow  will  decide,  — 
only  this  I  know :  we  intend  to  win  the  fight.  If  we  do  — 
the  country  must  be  cleared  of  enemies  at  our  hearthstones. 
She  will  be  sent  into  Burgoyne's  lines,  to  the  friends  she  has 
chosen,  as  General  Stark  reminds  me.  Can  I  blame  him  ?  " 

"  1  will  go  with  her  then.  Father,  do  you  consent? " 

"  You  may  have  to  go,  my  dear  !  General  Burgoyne  is  a 
gentleman,  General  Fraser  is  an  old  comrade.  You  will  be 
among  friends,  too,  remember." 

"  '  Friends  of  the  family,'  "  Catherine  smiled  to  herself. 

Bassy  tried  to  lighten  her  fears  for  the  colonel's  im 
prisonment.  But  her  thoughts  turned  to  the  packing  which 
must  be  hurried  —  she  went  to  give  it  her  superintendence. 
Her  father's  comfort  in  Manchester  jail  depended  on  the 
use  she  made  of  this  short  time. 

The  colonel  had  stepped  into  the  hall,  hearing  footsteps 
in  cowhide  boots.  He  ordered  butter-biscuits  and  rum  for 
his  fretful  guards  and  drank  with  them  to  the  event  of 
battle  on  the  morrow,  each  to  his  own  side,  nodding  at  the 
other  pleasantly.  He  had  a  great  fire  made  in  the  hall 
chimney  and  bade  them  put  their  backs  to  it,  and  laughed 
as  loud  as  any  at  the  joke  when  one  said,  he  was  not  used 
to  turning  his  back  to  the  British  fire. 

"  Friends  will  be  raised  up  to  him,"  Bassy  was  saying. 

He  and  Catherine  listened  to  the  laughter  with  com 
mingled  smiles. 


MEN   OF  THE   GRANTS  335 

"  Dear  daddy !  He  can't  help  being  good  to  people." 

She  could  hear  him  ordering  a  monstrous  luncheon  for 
the  journey,  after  inquiring,  "  how  many  of  you  fellows  are 
going  with  me?"  and  had  they  any  "tuck"  along.  He 
talked  of  the  day  ahead  of  him,  in  his  big  field  voice,  as  if 
it  were  a  hunting-trip.  Thinking  also  of  his  fellow-prisoners 
at  Manchester  jail  who  might  welcome  a  change  of  diet,  he 
kept  adding  to  the  proportions  of  the  luncheon  till  it  threat 
ened  to  exclude  the  most  of  his  personal  effects. 

"  Once  they  get  near  him,"  said  Bassy,  "  and  get  rid  of 
their  British  aristocrat  bugbear,  they  will  do  him  justice. 
They  have  put  him  in  a  class.  Man  to  man,  they  will  see 
him  as  he  is.  These  men  are  hard  fighters,  they  are  preju 
diced  through  private  wrongs,  but  they  are  not  implacable 
nor  are  they  fools." 

"  And  now,"  said  Catherine,  "  will  you  let  me  say  one 
word  to  you  ?  I  believe  this  awful  thing  will  make  of  Char 
lotte  a  nobler  woman.  This  is  not  herself !  It  is  some  mad 
ness  she  will  outlive.  Great  trials  are  for  great  souls,  my 
brother.  Take  it  as  it  comes  —  from  God !  We  know  that 
we  are  none  of  us  quite  bad  enough  to  have  deserved  this 
thing.  Take  it  as  it  comes,  and  God  be  with  you !  May  He 
keep  you  in  the  battle.  May  you  live  —  to  forgive  your 
wife!" 

She  laid  her  hands  in  his  one  instant  and  then,  "  Good- 
by,"  she  said.  "  Do  not  come  here  again.  We  shall  be  safe 
with  your  '  friends.'  With  our  friends,  Bassy ;  with  our 
friends  !  Do  you  understand,  at  last  ?  " 

"  Generous !  "  said  Bassy.  "  I  understand  —  in  silence." 

"That  is  all  I  ask." 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

Two  women,  wakeful,  with  a  little  child  asleep  between 
them  on  some  thinly  scattered  hay  in  the  loft  of  a  barn. 
The  men  who  should  have  piled  it  to  the  eaves  with  the 
summer's  harvest  were  fighting  with  Hackett  and  Warner. 

One  of  the  sons  would  come  home  to  his  father's  fields 
no  more :  he  died  a  boy  of  nineteen,  of  smallpox,  in  a  rain- 
soaked  hut  by  the  Lake  at  Crown  Point,  and  the  mother 
in  the  farmhouse  close  by,  a  hollow-eyed  woman  of  fifty, 
never  knew  his  fate.  The  other  women  in  the  house  were 
an  older  son's  young  wife  (with  three  little  children,  soon 
to  be  again  a  mother),  and  two  fine  girls,  bold,  bright- 
eyed,  hardly  grown,  yet  working  like  men  in  the  fields. 
The  only  sitting-room  required  was  the  kitchen,  where 
work  went  on  from  earliest  dawn  till  dark,  and  no  one  sat 
except  to  meals ;  they  went  to  bed  as  soon  as  the  evening 
chores  were  done. 

To  this  house  of  sorrow,  privation,  and  unceasing  toil 
had  come  two  handsome  young  females,  exceeding  well 
and  comfortably  dressed,  a  cherished  little  boy  of  two  or 
three  their  only  incumbrance ;  driven  in  a  four-wheeled 
chaise,  the  very  acme  of  luxury  in  those  times ;  a  man 
servant  on  the  box  and  an  armed  patriot  seated  beside  him, 
as  if  these  persons  were  of  national  importance.  A  wagon 
loaded  with  baggage  and  food  for  the  journey,  an  armed 
native  guarding  that  also,  brought  up  the  rear. 

These  men,  and  even  the  servants,  were  kindly  wel 
comed  by  the  women  of  the  house.  The  other  women,  the 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  337 

strangers,  for  whom  all  this  circumstance  and  parade  were 
made,  were  not  welcome :  why  should  they  be  ? 

In  their  fine  feathers,  these  fine  birds  were  flying  south 
to  meet  their  friends  the  invaders.  They  were  "  protee- 
tioners,"  more  unpopular  than  the  enemy  himself,  nay,  than 
his  Indians  or  his  foreign  allies.  One  of  them  had  done  a 
thing  for  which  a  man  would  have  been  shot.  The  other 
was  the  dainty,  white-fingered  child  of  a  British  ex-officer, 
friend  of  the  notorious  Major  McLean  who  had  fled  for 
his  life,  which  he  had  forfeited,  his  neighbors  of  the  Grants 
thought,  in  many  an  ugly  fray,  serving  writs  of  the  courts 
of  New  York  to  drive  them  from  their  homes.  Any  friend 
of  McLean's  would  be  pretty  sure  to  be  hated ;  but  this 
girl's  father  was  in  jail  for  acts  of  his  own,  or  on  suspicion 
of  such,  incriminated  with  the  other  girl,  the  dark  one 
(who  some  say  was  more  to  him  than  she  should  have 
been  before  she  was  married).  Yes,  her  own  husband,  the 
father  of  that  pretty  little  boy,  poor  little  fellow,  had 
tracked  her  down  and  put  her  to  the  door  for  turning 
traitor  in  his  name.  So  the  story  was  told  by  the  patriot 
guard  to  the  patriot  women. 

"  Our  folks  sent  us  along  to  see  she  did  n't  cut  up  any 
more  of  her  didos  on  the  road." 

"  No,  they  shan't  sleep  inside,"  the  women  said.  "  The 
barn  's  plenty  good  enough  for  Tory  trollops." 

At  bedtime  the  good  wife  and  her  daughters  overhauled 
the  stuff  in  the  travelers'  wagon.  They  helped  themselves 
to  what  would  go  else  to  feast  the  invader.  It  would  be 
difficult  to  exaggerate  the  bitterness  in  those  northern 
homes  toward  that  advancing  army  with  a  British  general 
at  its  head,  bringing  down  their  old  enemies  the  French 


338  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

and  Indians  upon  them.  The  murder  of  lovely  young 
Jennie  McCrea  was  a  fresh  horror  at  their  firesides.  If 
there  had  been  any  wavering,  or  weakening  toward  the 
mother  country,  all  hearts  were  hardened  now  in  the  face 
of  this  significant  outrage.  A  new  vial  of  the  old  wrath, 
the  old  satanic  peril,  was  opened,  and  England  herself 
had  broke  the  seal. 

So  the  wagon  was  lightened  of  its  capons  and  hams 
and  candied  fruits  and  cordials,  presents  to  the  red-coat 
generals  from  that  ex-red-coat,  Colonel  Yelverton.  Away 
went  the  rich  cheeses  and  minced  meats  and  game  and 
jellies  and  fresh  butter,  into  the  housewife's  clean  but 
empty  larder :  all  that  could  be  spared  from  those  shelves 
had  been  sent  to  the  sick  and  wounded  in  the  ranks  of 
the  militia. 

The  fat  of  the  land  these  Tories  lived  on,  with  their  fine 
servants  in  their  fine  mansions,  where  they  were  too  fine 
themselves  to  open  their  own  doors. 

The  wagon  was  not  so  well  stocked  as  when  it  started : 
This  was  explained  by  the  guard,  half  in  apology,  half  as  a 
good  joke,  —  other  houses  having  taken  toll  on  the  road. 
They  winked  at  this  spoiling  of  the  Egyptians.  The  Coun 
cil  of  Safety  had  detailed  them  for  the  duty  of  seeing 
these  protectioners  into  the  protecting  lines ;  and  Colonel 
Yelverton  had  subsidized  them  handsomely,  trusting  to 
purchase  a  little  extra  consideration  for  his  tender  host 
ages.  They  pocketed  his  money  with  their  tongues  in 
their  cheeks.  Everything  was  grist  that  came  to  the  patriot 
mill;  and  the  mills  must  keep  busy.  "Poor  an'  poorer 
we  maun  be." 

The  protectioners  had  little  care  for  these  pluckings 


MEN   OF  THE   GRANTS  339 

by  the  way.  They  were  like  the  survivors  after  an  earth 
quake  :  what  is  called  personal  property  had  lost  its  sig 
nificance  in  the  general  debacle.  They  marveled  rather  to 
find  themselves  with  good  appetites,  able  to  smile  at  the 
happiness  of  the  little  boy  to  whom  this  pilgrimage,  which 
meant  ruin,  was  a  continual  feast  of  wonder  and  delight. 

Catherine  was  supported  by  good  health  and  her  sense 
of  the  exceeding  naturalness  of  things  as  they  befell ;  given 
of  course  the  earthquake.  These  women,  who  it  could  be 
seen  frankly  hated  her,  —  were  they  not  saving  and  toiling 
for  those  they  loved  in  support  of  a  principle  which  might 
never  benefit  themselves?  The  appalling  nature  of  the 
struggle,  its  hopelessness  as  she  saw  it,  lent  a  touch  of 
tragedy  to  the  meanest  of  their  acts  —  and  some  of  them 
were  mean  enough. 

As  this  might  be  the  last  house  they  would  pass  with 
women  in  it,  the  guard  took  the  occasion  to  discharge  one, 
the  most  obnoxious,  part  of  its  duty.  Charlotte  and  Cath 
erine,  in  the  bedroom  of  the  mother,  were  personally 
searched  lest  they  be  the  bearers  of  contraband  informa 
tion.  The  ordeal  was  put  through  by  the  old  dame  and 
her  eldest  daughter,  not  without  propriety  and  a  grim 
Puritan  modesty ;  but  as  between  women  it  was  a  thorough 
piece  of  work. 

Wrathful  and  astonished  yet  in  some  ways  amused, 
Catherine  submitted,  thinking  "  What  is  this  to  one's 
father  in  jail  for  breaking  his  parole  !  Think  of  Lady 
Johnson,  safe  and  caressed  among  her  friends  in  Albany 
(where  I  shall  be  soon),  but  knowing  that  her  husband 
did  break  his  —  to  her  own  cousin  Philip,  who  trusted 
him  as  one  gentleman  trusts  another ! "  Alas,  the  happy 


340  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

days  when  Madam's  house  rang  with  songs  and  laughter 
of  that  beauteous  band  of  cousins,  scattered  now ! 

Charlotte  took  the  human  incidents  of  the  journey  as 
she  took  the  roads  and  the  weather.  She  had  been  struck 
too  hard  a  blow  to  feel  pin-pricks. 

And  so  they  were  laid  side  by  side,  each  wrapped  in 
her  own  thoughts,  with  the  unconscious  child  between 
them.  Sleep  as  deep  as  health  and  open  air  can  give  fas 
tened  his  long  lashes  down.  His  mother  rose  noiselessly  on 
elbow  to  look  at  him.  She  looked  across  at  Catherine,  who 
feigned  sleep  —  long  she  gazed  at  the  two  faces  in  the  soft 
glimmer  that  now  began  to  steal  into  the  shadowy  loft. 
At  the  sound  of  a  sigh  Catherine  opened  her  eyes.  Char 
lotte  lay  down  and  flung  out  one  arm  to  give  room  to  the 
heart's  load  within. 

"I  think  he  is  sleeping  very  sound,"  said  Catherine 
quietly.  "  I  'm  coming  around  to  you,  Charlotte,  if  I  may. 
We  cannot  sleep.  I  want  to  talk ;  it  may  be  our  last 
chance.  Where,  if  you  will  let  me  ask,  do  you  think  you 
will  be  going,  if  you  do  not  care  to  go  with  me  to  Aunt 
Schuyler's?  Where  do  you  want  to  go  ?  " 

"  Out  of  this  world ;  but  I  have  a  child." 

"  It  is  a  good  thing  to  remember." 

"  One  doesn't  remember  it  always." 

"  Is  there  anything,  I  wonder,  that  we  can  remember 
always,  except  to  eat  and  drink  !  " 

"  Do  not  pretend  to  be  cynical,  Catherine.  You  are  not 
really.  Neither  am  I !  I  know  that  in  my  life  I  have 
thrown  away,  broken,  smashed  —  what  many  would  have 
been  thankful  for,  because  it  was  not  something  else  or 
something  more.  There  is  nothing  left  now  to  throw  away 
except  myself." 


MEN  OF  THE  GRANTS  341 

"  4  Our  sorrows  are  not  eternal ;  sooner  or  later  they 
must  stop  because  our  hearts  have  stopped.'  My  cousin 
used  to  quote  that.  He  knew  about  sorrow." 

"  You  call  it '  sorrow,'  because  you  are  determined  to  be 
kind  to  the  sinner.  Let  me  tell  you,  since  you  wish  me  to 
talk,  that  I  hate  your  kindness." 

"If  it  were  kindness !  Is  it  not  possible  for  you  to  im 
agine  that  I  might  be  able  to  love  you  as  you  are  ?  You 
can  remember  a  time  when  you  loved  me  more  than  I  loved 
you.  I  pretended  then  because  it  was  expected  of  me.  I 
tried  hard ;  't  was  of  no  use.  Now  I  don't  try,  and  the  feel 
ing  has  come.  And  you  don't  care  for  me !  Often  when 
you  were  with  us  after  the  fire,  I  hungered  to  talk  with 
you  as  women  talk  to  women  only.  Men  never  quite  under 
stand  us  as  we  understand  each  other.  There  is  nothing 
inexplicable  to  me,"  she  ventured,  encouraged  by  Char 
lotte's  stillness,  "  in  what  you  did." 

"  Why  are  you  so  mealy-mouthed  ?  I  betrayed  him,  — 
that 's  what  I  4  did.'  And  I  would  do  it  again  as  often  as 
the  chance  were  given,  if  it  would  bring  those  hateful  Yan 
kees  to  their  knees.  What  right  has  he  to  be  fighting 
with  them  ?  " 

"  He  fights  as  they  fight,  for  something  they  love  better 
than  they  do  war  or  each  other ;  yet  it  is  the  same  thing. 
They  were  free  men  when  they  came  here  first,  and  God 
unveiled  to  them  these  great  hills  and  waters  and  forests. 
There  is  no  mystery  in  the  word  that  is  breathed  upon 
them.  The  awful  mystery  is  that  England  cannot  under 
stand  that  word  any  longer  in  the  hearts  of  Englishmen. 
Freedom  or  the  abyss  !  " 

"  English  Catherine !  Why  do  you  talk  of  freedom  to 


342  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

me  ?  Talk  of  the  abyss  if  you  like,  —  /shall  never  be  free  ! 
A  captive  always  :  to  the  Indians,  to  the  whites,  to  a  family 
that  was  not  my  family,  to  a  worship  that  was  lies !  And 
now  to  a  marriage  that  is  another  lie !  If  there  be  this 
great  '  word '  somewhere  for  each  of  us,  where  is  it  for 
me  ?  Let  me  go  hence  and  find  it !  " 

"  We  are  all  seeking  it,  dear  Charlotte :  it  is  the  fever 
we  call  life.  When  the  fever  runs  high,  when  we  are  young, 
it  breeds  madness  in  strange  ways.  When  it  is  low,  as  in 
some  of  us  who  are  old  before  our  time,  it  takes  the  form 
of  a  strange,  unnatural  despair  that  sees  an  abyss  at  every 
step  of  the  way.  That  I  have  never  seen  but  once,  thank 
God!  but  the  fever,  the  madness,  I  have  seen  one  time  or 
another  in  all  whom  I  love  who  had  a  spark  of  youth  left 
in  their  souls.  My  own  dear  father  was  particularly  mad 
when  he  thought,  once,  to  save  a  girl  he  loved  from  an 
unworthy  marriage  by  killing  the  bridegroom  according  to 
the  code.  He  made  a  lifelong  enemy,  and  deserved  to,  and 
Polly  Watts  has  found  the  husband  who  seems  to  have 
been  her  fate.  The  just  God  is  never  in  a  hurry.  Our  na 
tures  take  their  course.  Sir  John  is  following  his,  to  an  end 
more  suitable  than  dying  by  my  poor  father's  sword.  And 
Polly  will  be  learning  her  lessons  as  they  come  —  God  be 
ing  in  no  hurry.  I  know  much  if  not  all  that  took  place  in 
our  new  house  the  night  they  married  you  to  Bassy.  My 
father  owes  to  you  his  life,  or  that  he  has  not  a  dreadful  stain 
upon  his  good  old  sword !  We  owe  that  to  you  and  Bassy, 
both,  who  gave  us  your  two  lives.  Talk  of  my  being  '  kind ' 
to  you!  Is  it  for  those  to  apologize  for  you  who  led  you 
into  that  ambush  of  fate  ?  Forgive  us,  forgive  me,  who  was 
not  there  to  stand  by  your  side,  my  sister!  Of  all  the 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  343 

women  I  know,  you,  Charlotte,  were  made  for  truth  in  love 
and  loyalty  in  marriage.  And  here  you  are  with  your 
great  true  heart,  cast  out  for  treachery  to  your  husband 
and  your  home !  Is  n't  that  madness  to  make  the  angels 
weep?" 

44  You  are  the  angel,  Catherine !  I  do  not  wonder  he 
was  mad  to  have  lost  you.  He  never  would  have  done 
that  thing  —  not  to  save  a  hundred  fathers  —  but  he 
thought  his  chance  was  over." 

Catherine  was  silent. 

44  Your  father  told  him  something  about  you  —  I  dared 
not  ask  him  what  —  but  I  could  name  the  hour  when  he 
learned  it ;  when  his  hope  was  gone.  Oh,  I  was  sorry  for 
him !  He  was  pale  as  that  moon  out  there.  He  wore  a 
beautiful  ash-gray  velvet.  I  never  saw  it  again.  Know 
you  not  what  that  meant  ?  I  could  have  wept  for  him !  I 
did  think  I  could  comfort  him.  He  said,  when  I  asked  if 
he  loved  any  one  else,  4  No  one  I  can  ever  marry ' ;  but  he 
thought  he  should  be  able  to  love  me  a  little  after  a  while. 
We  both  had  hopes  at  first ;  we  were  not  misled ;  we 
acted  with  our  eyes  open.  It  could  not  be.  Men  like  him, 
they  go  about  their  business  when  their  great  dream  is 
over,  but  they  do  not  dream  again.  —  Hush  !  Let  me  finish 
—  I  know !  You  know  but  the  half.  Once  I  thought  he 
was  beginning  to  love  me ;  it  was  only  kindness  and  absence 
and  remorse.  By  degrees  I  grew  frantic.  A  woman  who 
has  seen  in  her  husband's  eyes  when  he  looks  at  her  the 
great  distaste,  she  kills  herself.  She  murders  something. 
One  hope  I  had  left.  He  gave  it  me  himself,  and  then  he 
took  it  away.  If  his  side  was  beaten  we  might  go,  he  said, 
far  beyond  the  western  mountains  and  begin  again.  My 


344  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

heart  gave  one  great  bound ;  since  then  it  is  dead.  I 
asked  him  to  go  now  —  with  me.  I  offered  him  myself, 
forgetting  which  was  woman  and  which  man.  He  looked 
at  me  as  if  he  was  woman.  So,  I  have  said  it !  There  is 
for  me  no  humiliation  left.  He  may  forgive  as  you  say 
he  ought ;  he  does  what  is  just.  'T  is  all  one  to  me.  Now, 
you,  that  never  had  to  offer  yourself  to  man,  woman,  or 
child,  who  never  loved  but  to  be  craved  and  caressed  in 
return  ;  you,  to  whom  everything  comes  before  you  ask  it 

—  you  say  you  can  understand  me,  —  my  lot !  Angels  may 
pity  us  down  here,  but  they  do  not  understand." 

The  old,  big  moon,  rising  late,  now  sailed  in  clear  splen 
dor  across  an  opening  in  the  gable  of  the  barn.  Her  light 
struck  upon  Charlotte's  face ;  she  turned  it  into  shadow. 
Catherine  sat  up  unheeding  the  full  illumination.  With 
her  hands  locked  about  her  knees,  her  head  thrown  back, 
she  sat  thinking.  So,  in  a  long  silence  the  two  remained. 

At  length  Catherine  spoke  in  a  soft,  measured  voice, 
hardly  above  a  whisper. 

"  I,  you  say,  who  have  had  everything  I  wanted ;  who 
never  loved  but  to  be  craved  in  return  !  Ah,  you  little 
know,  you  little  know !  Could  I  have  dared  approach  you 

—  put  my  finger  on  your  wound,  had  I  never  had  one 
of  my  own  to  hide  ?  " 

Word  by  word,  then,  touch  by  touch,  fearful  of  injus 
tice  yet  sparing  nothing  of  the  truth,  Catherine  laid  bare 
the  waste  places  of  her  own  young  life,  laid  her  own  hu 
miliation  as  a  crowning  shame  at  the  feet  of  her  who  had 
known  a  greater. 

It  was  a  complex  passion  that  wrought  within  her, 
bringing  tears,  when  the  tale  had  reached  her  parting  with 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  345 

Francis ;  that  inconceivable  end  to  a  beginning  so  natural 
and  sweet.  It  went  back  to  many  partings,  many  losses 
and  failures,  not  all  of  them  her  own,  in  the  short  years 
of  her  girlhood  that  had  seemed  so  long  in  the  living: 
Charlotte's  maiden  figure  in  the  summer-scented  meadow, 
lifting  slender  arms  in  blessings  on  those  she  loved  and 
cast  away  ;  Bassy  flinging  his  hope  into  the  breach,  for 
nothing  but  the  world's  silliness ;  Francis  flinging  away  his, 
pursued  by  the  world's  cares. 

Most  of  all,  it  was  for  him  she  wept :  her  Joseph  in  his 
bondage,  emptied  of  his  dreams,  buying  and  selling  and 
hoarding  wisely  for  the  evil  days. 

Wisdom  is  for  the  ancients,  prophets  are  for  the  people, 
and  kings  —  they  for  the  most  part  are  for  themselves  and 
their  thrones ;  but  boys  are  for  girls,  the  world  over,  and 
ever  shall  be  as  long  as  the  world  goes  right. 

So  that  was  done!  And  Charlotte,  with  a  deep,  sweet 
groan,  turned  to  the  shivering  speaker  and  gathered  her 
into  her  arms. 

"  My  little  sister,  my  little  sister !  My  little  hurt  and 
wounded  sister !  Did  I  trample  on  thee  ?  so  silent,  so 
laughing,  so  brave !  —  my  heart  to  thy  heart  now,  forever. 
I  thank  God !  If  I  die  now 't  will  not  be  of  utter  loneliness." 

"  Oh,  we  shall  not  die!"  Catherine  chuckled  softly. 
"  You  have  your  little  son,  I  have  my  best  old  father.  If 
the  young  men  don't  need  us,  they  do.  We  've  learned  on 
the  young  men  to  do  our  loving  better.  I  've  only  just  begun 
to  love  my  father.  You  've  only  just  begun,  this  moment, 
to  love  me,"  she  added  shyly. 

"Long  ago  I  loved  thee,  my  perfect  little  sister — but 
the  evil  birds ! "  She  shuddered  and  covered  her  face. 


346  THE   EOYAL  AMERICANS 

"  I  am  black  inside.  I  am  poisoned,  all  through,  with  my 
self !  " 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort !  you  are  red  inside  like  me.  We 
have  got  blood  in  our  veins.  Clean  blood  will  take  care  of 
its  own  poison.'* 

On  the  whole,  thinking  over  her  words  —  and  especially 
her  tears  —  Catherine  accused  herself  of  unwillf  ul  exagger 
ation  in  a  good  cause.  She  was  no  "  stricken  deer  "  as  she 
had  given  Charlotte  to  suppose.  Her  keenness  for  experi 
ence  was  unquenched.  She  had  "  staked  her  life  upon  the 
red,"  and  lost,  but  her  coin  was  not  all  spent.  It  was  other 
wise  with  Charlotte.  It  were  inhuman  to  remind  her  of  the 
difference. 

As  for  Joseph  down  in  Egypt  —  we  know  that  he  came 
to  great  honor  in  the  marts  of  men.  If  he  had  ceased  to 
dream  himself,  he  became  an  expounder  of  the  dreams  of 
others ;  and  a  sure  if  somewhat  subtle  provider  against  the 
emptiness  to  come. 

To  be  more  literal :  Francis,  in  thinking  out  things  for 
himself  (and  often  wrongly)  still  had  acquired  the  useful 
habit  of  thinking.  He  was  the  one  member  of  his  family 
who  bestowed  any  mental  exercise  on  that  familiar  phrase, 
"  the  mother  country."  It  was  his  nature  to  pierce  the 
weakness  that  resides  in  the  spells  and  catch-words  of 
idealists  and  such  as  live  by  sentiment.  He  saw  the  fal 
lacy  in  that  ancient,  beloved  phrase. 

Not  as  a  mother  precisely  had  England  urged  her  chil 
dren  forth  on  strange  adventures  across  the  lonely  seas. 
The  early  Quakers,  his  ancestors,  came  as  from  one  whip 
ping-post,  one  pillory,  to  another.  Criminals,  broken  men 


MEN  OF  THE  GKANTS  347 

of  all  classes,  the  wreckage  of  her  social  system  and  her 
wars,  her  Britannic  Mothership  flung  out  to  get  rid  of  them. 
Bound  men  and  women  she  sold  into  slavery.  The  Puritans 
she  encouraged  to  leave  her  side,  as  she  did  the  Quakers, 
through  methods  even  in  that  age  not  to  be  called  maternal. 
When  she  parted  with  money,  it  was  to  get  more  ;  when 
she  sent  ships,  they  were  lost  unless  good  men  went  with 
them,  and  these  she  remembered  only  when  they  no  longer 
needed  it,  and  forgot  if  they  failed. 

Individual  English  mothers  and  fathers  there  were, 
and  of  these,  we  their  children  shall  reverently  speak,  seek 
ing  vainly  for  words  to  do  them  justice ;  but  there  was  no 
Mother  England  for  young  America  in  the  time  of  the 
Georges,  nor  for  long  before.  No  more  than  there  was  a 
Mother  France,  that  spewed  the  best  blood  of  her  breeding 
out  of  her  mouth  or  massacred  it  in  spots,  depopulated 
through  her  caresses. 

If  America  had  anything  resembling  a  mother  in  these 
times,  it  was  that  brave,  astute  little  foster-mother  Hol 
land,  who  gave  the  fugitives  rest  from  their  real  mothers 
of  one  nation  or  another,  before  they  struck  out  for  them 
selves. 

With  these  and  similar  arguments  Francis  combated 
the  loyal  sentiments  of  his  family ;  not  moving  them  in 
the  least,  but  fixing  his  own  convictions.  They  led  to 
nothing  in  the  nature  of  fighting,  for  himself.  He  was  fas 
tidious  about  shedding  blood.  To  be  a  soldier,  moreover, 
one  must  have  the  "  afflatus " ;  but  with  the  sure  fore 
sight  of  despondency,  he  marked  out  the  roads  to  failure  : 
how  the  commissariat  would  break  down,  especially  since 
Congress  had  begun  to  tinker  with  it. 


348  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

Between  1773  and  the  winter  at  Valley  Forge,  Edwin 
and  Francis  had  made  a  great  deal  of  money  for  those 
times.  Edwin  was  already  rich,  and  Francis's  great  mo 
ment  came  when  he  convinced  his  narrower  partner  that 
in  this  struggle  those  who  could  not  fight  must  pay.  For 
the  fight  must  be  won,  and  the  future  would  make  it 
worth  their  while.  Edwin  believed  that  something  of  the 
Spirit  which  he  reverenced,  though  he  had  it  not,  must  be 
with  his  younger  brother,  or  he  never  could  have  brought 
him  over  to  a  course  so  beyond  the  bounds  of  common 
sense.  There  was  no  public  honor  and  certainly  no  profit 
connected  with  those  quiet  loans  that  went  out  of  that 
Quaker  counting-house  into  the  treasuries  of  the  war; 
yet  timely  was  the  help  thus  given ;  and  another  and  a 
greater  Quaker  gentleman  was  to  win  glory  enough  for 
the  whole  sect  through  his  patriotic  financiering. 

For  the  rest,  Francis's  life  was  passed  honorably  and 
prosperously  but  somewhat  sadly.  Prophets  of  Lamentation 
are  apt  to  be  lonely  men.  He  resisted,  to  be  metaphorical 
again,  Potiphar's  wife  (if  he  ever  met  her),  he  was  not 
seduced  by  the  gay  daughters  of  the  land.  He  married, 
somewhat  late  in  life,  an  admirable  lady  whose  virtues  as 
wife  and  mistress  of  a  mansion  one  successful  marriage 
could  attest,  and  who  was  not  averse  to  making  a  second 
husband  as  happy  as  her  first.  She  made  Francis  as  happy 
as  he  could  be.  They  had  one  beautiful  daughter  who 
died  of  a  disease  not  at  that  time  understood.  When,  later, 
cures  became  common,  when  he  knew  that  his  exquisite 
child  had  been  sacrificed  to  ignorance,  —  then  there  en 
tered  into  his  cool  discernment,  his  philosophical  pessim 
ism,  a  deep  incurable  passion  of  human  grief  with  which 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  349 

he  lived  alone,  as  he  had  lived  in  secret  with  his  one  great 
love. 

So  nothing  of  Francis  was  left  to  pass  on  but  his 
money.  He  cared  little  for  money  himself,  being  distant 
and  temperate  in  his  use  of  it  as  in  his  use  of  life :  he 
wanted  it  at  his  back,  instead  of  the  fear  that  he  was  born 
with,  —  of  his  obligations  and  decisions,  of  himself.  He 
had  no  fear,  being  a  philosopher,  of  his  Maker;  he  did 
not  indeed  presume  to  have  definitely  made  his  acquaint 
ance. 


CHAPTEK  XL 

BY  October  eighth,  Catherine's  "  friends  of  the  family  " 
were  no  longer  in  a  state  themselves  to  render  assistance  to 
wandering  ladies,  even  loyalists  in  distress. 

Of  the  two  letters  her  father  had  provided,  one  was  ad 
dressed  to  General  Eraser,  who  but  the  day  before  had 
received  his  death-wound  at  the  battle  of  Bemis  Heights. 
He  lay  stretched  for  burial  in  the  house  where  he  had  been 
expected  that  evening  as  a  guest  of  Madame  de  Riedesel, 
wife  of  the  Brunswick  general  in  command  of  the  German 
auxiliaries. 

To  madame's  door  the  young  women  were  sent,  since 
their  second  letter,  to  General  Burgoyne,  could  not  then 
be  delivered.  The  fortunes  of  the  expedition  had  taken  a 
critical  turn. 

A  German  maidservant  pointed  out  to  them  hysterically 
the  state  of  the  house,  assuring  them  of  the  impossibility 
of  her  mistress  receiving  strangers.  They  were  able  to  see 
and  hear  for  themselves :  the  entry  was  filled  with  wounded 
men,  and  the  house  resounded  with  groans. 

Shocked  and  mournful,  they  turned  away.  Seated  in  their 
chaise,  they  watched  that  evening  the  generals  and  their 
retinues  ascend  the  hill  of  the  great  redoubt,  where  under 
fire  from  the  American  marksmen  they  buried  General 
Eraser,  in  fulfillment  of  his  dying  wish. 

From  the  door  of  the  Smith  house  Madame  de  Riedesel 
could  distinguish  her  husband  in  the  group  of  officers  who 
stood  unmoved  at  the  grave  while  cannon-balls  tore  up  the 


MEN  OF  THE  GRANTS  351 

earth  around  them.  The  Americans  expressed  regret  when 
they  learned  they  had  been  firing  on  a  burial-party. 

Immediately  after  this  duty  was  performed  (which  some 
of  the  German  officers  considered  overstrained  under  the 
stern  necessities  of  the  .case),  the  army  was  put  in  motion 
with  every  effort  at  secrecy.  Refugees  and  camp-followers 
straggled  along  the  line  of  retreat  on  the  road  to  Saratoga. 

Our  two  young  protectioners,  less  the  supply-wagon,  with 
no  guard  and  no  servant  now  to  drive  their  team,  found  a 
place  in  this  mixed  multitude.  All  night  Catherine  lashed 
on  her  tired  horses,  suffering  more  than  they,  —  for  they 
too  were  friends  of  the  family, — while  Charlotte  supported 
her  sleeping  boy  and  hushed  him  when  he  roused. 

At  six  o'clock  there  was  a  halt ;  the  little  fellow  awoke 
cold  and  hungry  and  was  not  to  be  pacified.  His  crying 
caught  the  notice  of  a  young  officer  riding  by,  who  saw  the 
pale  sweet  face  of  a  tired  girl  urging  on  a  span  of  over 
driven  horses,  and  the  worried  eyes  of  the  still  handsomer 
mother  inside. 

Catherine  looking  back  at  him  flung  out  an  appealing 
hand.  Her  impulses  seldom  failed  to  accomplish  something, 
not  always,  though,  what  she  had  intended.  That  officer's 
face,  surely,  she  had  known  somewhere  at  some  time  in 
her  life  ?  In  a  moment,  as  he  rode  up  beside  the  wheel, 
she  remembered  him  and  could  have  blushed  had  the  cir 
cumstances  been  of  a  rosier  complexion.  He  was  the  young 
garrison  fop  who  had  stared  inside  her  bonnet  coming 
home  from  Quaker  meeting.  He  had  not  recognized  her, 
for  which  she  was  thankful ;  but  she  would  have  given  him 
her  trust  just  the  same. 
•  "  We  are  loyalists,"  she  said,  "  Our  servants  have  de- 


352  THE   EOYAL  AMERICANS 

serted  us,  and  our  escort  took  the  last  of  our  supplies.  We 
can  only  beg,  and  this  baby  is  hungry." 

The  baby  had  ceased  crying  to  gaze  at  the  officer's 
charger  backing  and  fretting  against  the  bit.  His  rider 
wore  the  busby  and  blue  uniform  of  one  of  the  hussar 
regiments,  setting  off  his  Canadian  tan. 

"  Monstrous  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  This  country  is  inhabited 
by  a  race  of  brutes." 

"Your  cousins,"  said  Catherine,  "and  my  brothers:  you 
speak  to  a  native-born.  Most  of  these  people  around  us  have 
heard  what  your  —  our  Indians  did  at  Fort  Edward !  " 

"  Great  God,  ma'am !  That  was  a  horrid  affair !  That 
will  stick  to  us  longer  than  our  Indian  allies.  But  our  gen 
eral  is  maligned.  He  did  his  best  to  hold  the  savage  pack 
in  leash." 

"  I  fear  the  general  does  not  know  Indians.  These  peo 
ple  do.  They  are  leaving  and  driving  their  cattle  before 
them.  I  have  offered  this  team  and  carriage  to  any  one 
who  would  go  with  us  to  Albany,  and  feed  us  on  the  road. 
There  *s  no  one  left  to  take  me  up." 

"  You  are  not  going  to  Albany  now,  you  know :  we  are 
headed  —  the  other  way ;  and  our  commissariat  has  van 
ished  like  a  dream.  We  are  waiting  now  for  the  bateaux 
to  catch  up.  Let  me  introduce  you  to  Madame  de  Riedesel, 
however.  She  has  a  rascal  of  a  cook  who  is  the  king  of 
foragers.  Trust  a  German  woman  to  look  after  her  hus 
band's  larder ! " 

"  Oh,  but  I  should  not  wish  to  go  to  her  again.  We  were 
sent  to  her  house  yesterday.  Such  a  scene  of  misery !  Ma 
dame  was  quite  unable  to  do  anything  for  persons  like  us." 

"  But  did  you  see  her  ?    Only  a  servant?    That's  quite 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  353 

another  how-dy-do !  Come  with  me  now,  before  we  move 
on." 

Captain  Wilford  had  quickly  placed  the  two  pretty  wo 
men  each  in  her  own  class,  and  addressed  Catherine  as  the 
leader. 

"  Can  the  mother  hold  your  horses  ?  We  11  take  this 
little  man  with  us.  He  shall  beg  his  own  breakfast.  Lord, 
how  madame  would  like  to  have  one  of  her  own  like  him ! 
hers  are  all  girls.  She  has  them  here  with  her !  on  the 
march." 

He  put  Catherine  upon  his  horse,  tossed  up  the  boy  hi 
front  of  her,  and  marching  alongside,  with  a  bright  look 
back  at  Charlotte,  he  poured  out  his  heart  to  his  fasci 
nating  companion,  thrilled  with  her  maiden  eyes  and  her 
voice  of  lyric  laughter  bordering  tears.  It  was  war-time 
love-making  every  step  of  the  way  on  his  part.  But  why 
should  Catherine  care !  as  compared  with  that  girl  in  the 
Quaker  bonnet,  she  felt  old  enough  to  be  his  mother.  The 
young  officer  evidently  had  not  grown  an  inch;  but  now 
the  kindness  of  his  heart  was  stirred. 

"  The  baroness  fed  nigh  upon  thirty  of  us  yesterday,  with 
her  houseful  of  sick  and  wounded,  as  you  saw  —  and  poor 
Eraser  laid  out  in  the  next  room.  Took  off  the  wine-glasses 
and  flowers  and  silver  from  her  dining-table  to  lay  him 
there.  She 's  the  best  '  German  auxiliary '  /  know.  Lady 
Harriet  Ackland  's  just  got  word  the  major 's  wounded  and 
a  prisoner.  Madame  has  her  to  advise  and  comfort,  expect 
ing  her  own  husband  any  moment  to  be  fetched  in." 

They  came  to  a  stop  where  a  covered  calash  was  drawn 
to  one  side,  a  man  in  the  dress  of  a  jager  standing  by  the 
team.  Two  little  girls  were  skipping  about  talking  to  him. 


354  THE   KOYAL  AMERICANS 

A  maid  in  a  cap  with  Jlebbe  heated  coffee  over  a  brazier  on 
the  ground,  while  a  second  woman  seated  on  a  pile  of  camp- 
luggage  cuddled  a  small  child  on  her  lap ;  tears  running 
down  her  face,  which  was  swollen  and  red  with  much  pre 
vious  weeping. 

The  legs  of  a  man,  booted  and  spurred  and  covered  with 
mud,  projected  helpless  from  the  hooded  seat  of  the  calash. 

"  Good  God,  is  the  general  wounded?  " 

"St!  pardon,  Herr  Captain!  He  sleeps  on  madame's 
shoulder.  Has  not  the  clothes  had  off  two  nights  and  two 
days  already !  "  the  jager  explained  respectfully,  drawing 
near. 

To  some  question  asked  in  German  by  a  sweet  voice 
from  the  carriage,  "  Rockel,"  as  the  voice  addressed  him, 
went  up  close  to  the  wheel. 

"  Madame  desires  her  compliments.  Will  the  Herr  Cap 
tain  come  and  speak  with  her  ?  But  soft,  soft,  sir,  if  you 
please!" 

Standing  at  the  captain's  side,  Rockel  holding  her 
horse,  Catherine  also  drew  near  and  saw  a  pale  little  blue- 
eyed  woman  looking  down  at  her  earnestly.  A  tall  man, 
haggard,  unshaven,  dressed  in  a  soiled  but  splendid  uniform 
of  the  Brunswickers,  leaned  against  her  shoulder,  insen 
sible  with  sleep. 

She  smiled  brightly.  "  Good  morning,  captain !  How 
is  poor  Major  Harnage  this  morning  ?  —  Thank  God !  "  she 
replied,  on  being  told  the  major  would  live.  "  My  husband 
you  see  forgets  his  troubles !  No,  we  shall  not  disturb  — 
he  sleeps  as  a  ploughman  !  Aye,  a  sad  harvest  was  yester 
day.  Who  is  that  pretty  child  you  have  there  ?  Ach,  little 
man !  hungry  ?  No  supper  last  evening  ?  Ach  Gott !  speak 


MEN  OF  THE  GRANTS  S55 

to  the  women,  Rockel ;  they  have  not  one  head  between 
them  this  morning.  Are  you  the  mother,  madame  ?  No  :  he 
has  not  the  look  of  an  English  child.  But  do  not  be  em 
barrassed  to  take  what  little  I  am  able  to  offer.  I  would  I 
possessed  the  widow's  —  how  do  you  say  in  English  ?  — 
Such  needs,  and  brave  hearts  so  many,  and  empty  stomachs ! 
Have  you  yourselves  eaten  at  all  since  yesterday  ?  Yester 
day  morning  !  " 

"  And  driving  a  pair  of  dragged-out  horses  all  last  night 
with  the  rear,"  the  captain  interjected. 

"  There  are  many  others  who  have  eaten  as  little  and 
walked,"  said  Catherine. 

"  Ach,  what  women  are  the  English !  " 

"  From  what  we  hear,  madaine,  permit  me,  there  are 
some  German  ladies  I  think  could  give  us  lessons  in  cam 
paigning  ! " 

"You  are  too  kind,  mademoiselle!  That  will  be  my 
friend  Captain  Wilford  says  such  things."  Madame  smiled 
at  Catherine's  companion.  "  One  night  a  leetle  bowl  of 
soup  I  gave  him:  I  shall  be  for  that  bowl  of  soup  for 
ever  canonized  ?  Is  that  how  you  say  made  a  saint  ?  " 

"  Canon-ized.  it  is,  dear  madame  —  a  saintship  under 
fire !  "  said  the  gallant  aid-de-camp. 

"  Have  you  no  servant  you  could  send  for  these  things, 
mademoiselle,"  —  Rockel  had  brought  a  great  store  in  a 
basket  of  Indian  make,  —  "  or  will  you  let  Rockel  attend 
you?" 

"  I  am  quite  able  to  carry  —  or  we  are,  may  I  say,  cap 
tain  ?  —  all  we  shall  need  for  the  present,  baroness.  We 
must  not  accept  more,  for  who  knows  what  claims  you 
still  may  have  to  meet  ?  " 


356  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  Children  first,  then  wounded  men  and  women.  But  this 
cannot  last ;  either  we  shall  retreat  or  be  taken.  For  what 
do  we  stop  now,  captain  ?  " 

The  aid  explained.  Madame  shrugged  her  shoulders. 
Some  movement  of  her  sleeper  closed  her  part  in  the  col 
loquy.  She  smiled  her  farewells,  holding  out  a  pretty  hand. 

Catherine  put  her  lips  to  it  in  silence.  The  little  boy, 
held  up  against  the  captain's  breast,  had  been  watching 
the  lady  fixedly.  Of  a  sudden  he  leaned  toward  her,  smacked 
his  own  cold,  rosy  little  palm,  and  held  it  out. 

There  was  a  cheer  from  the  hungry  soldiers  looking  on. 
Many  of  the  weary  night-marchers  who  stepped  out  of  rank 
to  let  them  pass  smiled  at  the  singular  group :  the  aid-de 
camp  leading  his  charger  that  carried  a  girl  with  a  sweet 
home  face, — an  alien-looking,  beauteous  child  held  before 
her  on  her  knee.  They  might  have  been  Virgin  America 
when  England  and  America  were  one,  protecting  the  blood 
of  a  new  race,  the  hope  of  many  nations,  the  heir  of  a 
nation  yet  to  be. 

"  I  shall  keep  an  eye  on  you  through  madame,"  said  the 
captain  in  parting.  "  She  will  not  forget  you ;  nor  shall  I ! " 

His  duties  would  not  permit  him  to  stay  and  share  the 
feast  he  had  helped  provide.  He  tore  himself  away  from 
these  charming  provincials,  and  they  never  saw  each  other 
again. 

The  army  moved  on,  but  was  soon  halted,  a  reconnoi 
tring  party  of  Americans  being  within  sight  and  near 
enough,  the  German  officers  thought,  to  have  been  captured, 
—  Burgoyne  not  being  of  their  opinion. 

Rain  began  to  fall ;  the  long  rain  that  continued  over 
the  9th.  Toward  evening  Saratoga  was  reached,  but  half 


MEN  OF  THE  GRANTS  357 

an  hour's  march  from  the  place  where  a  whole  day  had 
been  spent  in  the  chilling  storm. 

The  shelter  of  the  carriage  was  now  shared  by  a  wounded 
foot-soldier  whom  the  girls  could  not  pass  by.  Two  others 
had  climbed  on  the  traveling  cases  behind.  No  tents  were 
set  up ;  the  greatest  misery  and  disorder  prevailed.  By  the 
roadside  Charlotte  made  supper  in  the  rain.  Stragglers 
stood  around  and  watched  her  patiently.  To  one,  a  Cana 
dian  rifleman  who  spoke  no  English,  Catherine  offered 
supper  if  he  would  go  out  and  forage  for  her  team ;  which 
he  did  with  great  success,  helping  himself  in  common  with 
many  others  from  General  Schuyler's  well-filled  barns. 
She  tried  her  hand  at  a  little  domestic  surgery  in  aid  of 
her  wounded.  They  were  cheerful  lads,  asking  questions 
indiscriminately  and  bringing  out  answers  according  to  the 
point  of  view  —  answers  that  sometimes  ignored  the  pre 
sence  of  ladies. 

Of  a  wet  and  slouching  camp-follower,  one  inquired 
whose  big  house  it  was  lighted  up  as  for  a  banquet. 

General  Schuyler's  country-seat,  he  was  told  —  and  a 
banquet,  sure  enough!  General  Burgoyne  was  sitting 
there  at  supper,  with  his  friends  and  his  lass  beside  him, 
the  pretty  wife  of  a  commissary,  as  fond  of  champagne  as 
himself. 

"  And  what  a  hang  would  'e  care  where  'is  sick  an' 
wounded  are  a  layin'  out  to-night?  'E 's  'appy.  And  a 
horder  comin'  to  'em  if  he  makes  connections  with  Lord 
'Owe.  This  ain't  a  retreat,  this  ain't.  It 's  puss  in  the 

corner,  by  G !  '  Puss-puss-puss ! '  'E  '11  keep  on  a 

hollerin'  to  'Owe,  but  the  Yankees  '11  answer  'im." 

Catherine  had  been  considering  if  this  were  not  a  per- 


358  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

missible  time  to  send  in  her  father's  letter  to  the  com 
manding  general;  but  such  speeches,  though  probably 
untrue,  she  thought,  were  discouraging.  Her  own  eyes 
were  able  to  contrast  the  spirit  of  that  scene  in  General 
Schuyler's  dining-room  with  the  mud  and  gloom  and  wretch 
edness  outside. 

Early  on  the  following  morning  they  were  in  motion 
again,  and  again  were  halted;  this  time  it  was  said  for 
the  distribution  of  rations,  sorely  needed ;  but  with  one 
delay  and  another  and  much  '  Puss,  puss ! '  the  Americans 
gained  time  to  answer ;  and  about  two  o'clock  that  after 
noon  the  answer  came. 

Non-combatants  were  seen  in  every  direction  looking  for 
shelter  as  a  terrific  cannonading  began  —  three  thousand 
New  York  and  Vermont  militia  across  the  narrow  Hudson, 
Morgan's  Virginian  riflemen  in  the  rear,  New  Englanders 
guarding  all  the  fords :  Burgoyne  was  surrounded. 

Catherine's  horses  bore  the  firing  well.  Her  father  had 
delivered  many  a  charge  of  buckshot  from  the  saddle  over 
their  heads ;  but,  excited  as  they,  she  let  them  gallop  across 
the  deadly  field.  There  was  a  large  house  on  a  hill  toward 
which  many  persons  were  running.  The  American  gunners, 
mistaking  it  for  a  general's  headquarters,  opened  fire 
upon  it. 

As  Catherine  tore  across  to  gain  its  shelter,  Madame  de 
Riedesel  was  holding  the  door  of  the  cellar  a  few  steps 
below  the  ground  against  a  mob  of  the  able-bodied  that 
threatened  to  break  in.  Her  own  children  were  crouched 
beneath  the  stairs.  The  floor  was  covered  with  sick  and 
wounded  men. 

Cannon-balls  struck  the  house  and  rolled  through  the 


MEN  OF  THE   GRANTS  359 

empty  rooms  above,  and  women  shrieked  in  the  cellar. 
The  skulkers  who  beseiged  that  poor  refuge  had  mostly 
been  frightened  away  before  Catherine  reached  it.  Her 
horses  were  now  unmanageable  with  the  reins.  She  jumped 
out  and  stood  at  their  heads  while  the  wounded  climbed 
down  and  the  mother,  kneeling  in  the  bottom  of  the  chaise, 
covered  her  child's  body  with  her  own  :  that  four-wheeler 
with  its  conspicuous  gray  team  was  become  a  shining 
mark. 

If  it  was  courage  to  stand  there  quieting  her  bonny 
grays,  Catherine  did  not  know  it.  She  was  watching  one  of 
her  wounded,  who  had  reached  the  cellar-entrance,  and 
then  she  hid  her  face.  He  staggered  toward  it,  his  good 
arm  shot  off  at  the  shoulder,  and  fell  in  a  pool  of  blood  as 
the  open  door  received  him. 

With  shaking  hands  she  unhooked  traces,  knotted  reins, 
and  bade  her  friends  farewell.  The  last  bit  of  her  home 
was  gone.  She  stood  and  watched  her  gallant  grays  a 
moment  —  her  excitement  was  too  great,  her  participation 
too  intense  to  leave  room  for  fear.  Then  some  one  pulled 
her  into  the  cellar  and  shut  the  door. 


BOOK  VII 

"THE   LIGHT  LIES   ON   THE  FARTHER 
HILLS " 


CHAPTER  XLI 

WE  spare  ourselves  more  than  a  passing  allusion  to 
the  air  of  that  cellar.  Madame  de  Riedesel  who  spent  six 
days  in  it  did  not  escape  so  easily,  even  in  memory.  With 
German  exactness  and  hardihood  she  tells  of  what  its 
offenses  were  composed,  and  how,  combined  with  the  odor 
from  carious  wounds,  they  affected  the  atmosphere  those 
herded  prisoners  breathed. 

But  there  was  nothing  "  that  extraordinary  German 
woman "  could  not  cope  with.  No  sentimentalist  was 
she :  —  as  masterful  as  she  was  gracious,  as  intelligent  as 
she  was  kind  and  good ;  and  a  thoroughgoing  housewife 
under  all. 

On  a  day  when  the  firing  turned  off  in  another  di 
rection,  she  emptied  the  cellar  of  its  frightened  folk,  and 
commanding  such  workers  as  she  could  muster,  caused 
the  floors  to  be  swept  and  the  awful  place  to  be  fumigated 
with  vinegar  sprinkled  on  hot  coals ;  and  spoke  of  it  re 
spectfully  and  with  gratitude,  when  her  work  was  done, 
as  "  spacious  and  well-vaulted." 

She  classified  and  divided  up  the  company,  having  the 
dangerously  wounded  and  the  dying  carried  into  the  end 
cellar,  where  two  narrow  windows  near  the  roof  let  in  a  little 
fresh  air.  Soldiers'  wives  and  miscellaneous  persons  were 
in  the  middle  compartment,  while  the  two  ladies  who  be 
sides  herself  were  still  with  the  army,  her  children,  and  a 
few  of  the  least  injured  officers,  were  in  the  outer  cellar 


364  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

next  the  door.  Of  this  assemblage  she  took  command, 
passing  from  room  to  room  doing  deeds  of  mercy. 

Lady  Ackland  had  been  sent  with  a  flag  into  the  Amer 
ican  lines  to  nurse  her  husband,  a  gentle  incident  made 
much  of  at  the  time,  to  offset  some  others  that  have  been 
but  too  well  preserved.  The  little  company  in  the  outer 
cellar  was  confined  to  persons  of  a  certain  rank  who  had 
shared  the  campaign  and  were  friends  now,  if  strangers 
when  it  began.  Into  this  intimate  circle,  saddened  by  the 
approaching  death  of  Captain  Reynal  (whose  wife  was  one 
of  the  two  army  ladies),  Catherine  preferred  not  to  enter: 
certainly  not  without  Charlotte,  who  was  more  at  home  in 
the  middle  cellar,  —  with  reason,  Catherine  owned,  seeing 
the  difference  that  was  made  by  these  ladies  and  gentlemen 
between  herself  and  her  sister  companion.  To  introduce 
another  child  at  the  "  troublesome  age  "  into  small  quarters 
where  there  were  three  already  was  another  reason  for 
resisting  the  baroness's  invitation,  urged  upon  Catherine, 
but  somewhat  casually  including  Charlotte. 

Catherine  remained  with  her  sister,  when  not  caring 
for  the  wounded  under  madame's  direction. 

A  scarcity  of  water  began  to  be  felt  almost  immedi 
ately,  yet  no  soldier  could  be  asked  to  go  for  it  with  those 
Yankee  outposts  across  the  river  defended  by  marksmen, 
watching  the  western  shore. 

"  They  won't  fire  on  'a  woman,"  said  Charlotte.  She 
put  on  a  long,  full  cloak  of  blue  homespun,  coifed  her 
head  with  a  white  handkerchief,  and  went  forth,  carrying 
her  pails. 

No  one  offered  much  remonstrance.  It  was  true,  — 
"  they "  would  not  shoot  a  woman ;  at  least,  they  never 


THE  LIGHT  ON  THE  FARTHER  HILLS     365 

had,  except  a  squaw.  Neither  did  any  one  praise  her  for 
taking  the  risk:  an  apathy  follows  intense  experiences 
over-sensationalized. 

Catherine  was  with  madam e  in  the  inner  cellar,  where 
one  of  the  wounded  had  just  died  in  agony.  Captain  Rey- 
nal's  wife,  a  new-made  widow,  recalled  her  own  bitter 
hour  in  a  burst  of  wild  weeping.  The  water  was  eagerly 
welcomed,  and  Charlotte  had  her  reward  when  she  took 
her  little  son  in  her  lap  and  watched  him  drink  his  fill 
and  look  up  at  her  and  throw  himself  back  upon  her 
breast,  kicking  with  satisfaction. 

Catherine  stood  and  looked  on,  smiling,  with  shining 
eyes.  She  had  just  heard  where  the  water  came  from. 

"  What  a  woman  you  are !  "  She  put  her  arms  about 
Charlotte  and  kissed  her.  "  Let  me  go  this  time,  mother 
of  a  boy!" 

"  Don't  ask  me !  Everything  else  you  can  do.  I  have 
the  strong  arms." 

"  But  I  hunger  for  the  air,"  Catherine  said,  with  subtlety. 
"  If  I  could  go  to  the  river  and  look  at  the  hills  once  more ! " 
Charlotte  saw  through  her. 

There  came  a  summons  for  Mistress  Yelverton,  wanted 
by  madame. 

"That  is  your  call,  sister,  and  this  is  mine.  It  com 
forts  me  !  Did  you  see  my  baby  drinking  ?  "  They  kissed 
each  other  again  by  way  of  explanation,  and  Charlotte 
went  forth  a  second  time  with  her  pails. 

"  Another  reason  why  she  could  n't  go,"  she  continued 
the  argument  with  herself,  "  is,  they  would  n't  allow  it. 
Ladies  can't  bear  to  see  other  ladies  doing  menial  work. 
She  might  give  them  her  life,  but  not  carry  pails  of  water." 


366  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

She  smiled  at  her  own  penetration,  yet  not  bitterly.  Her 
strength  was  equal  to  the  call;  and  there  was  one  lady, 
the  loveliest  —  who  loved  her ! 

On  her  way  back  she  came  upon  one  of  the  "  casual 
ties  "  of  the  day :  a  boy  who  looked  not  over  twenty  in  the 
scarlet  and  facings  of  the  Grenadiers,  Major  Ackland's 
brave  fellows  who  carried  General  Fraser's  body  up  the  hill, 
under  fire,  at  a  funeral  step.  His  beardless  face  was  chalk 
white.  He  crawled  on  hands  and  knees,  hidden  by  the 
bushes  from  the  marksmen ;  but  as  his  wound  was  in  the 
neck,  it  was  a  bad  position  for  him.  The  bloody  cloth  he 
wore  was  soaked ;  blood  trickled  from  it  into  his  breast 
and  dripped  upon  his  hands.  He  asked  for  water,  and 
Charlotte  set  one  pail  down,  resting  the  other  on  her  knee 
while  he  drank. 

"You  ought  to  have  that  wound  dressed  very  soon, 
brother,"  she  said  gently.  "  You  are  losing  too  much 
blood.  Could  you  stand  up  and  walk  as  far  as  that  house 
with  a  bend  in  the  roof,  the  big  house  on  the  hill  ?  See  it?" 

"  Ho,  walk !  No  walkin'  for  me.  Look  you  over  there, 
my  lass  !  See  they  trenches  ?  There  's  none  may  walk  across 
this  'ell  of  a  hill  i'  the  face  o'  they.  Every  man-jack  be 
hind  'em  'ath  an  eye  like  an  'awk." 

"  Where  do  you  come  from  ?  "  asked  Charlotte,  for  the 
lad's  hair  was  as  black  as  a  Spaniard's  and  he  had  eyes  to 
match,  with  lashes  like  a  woman's. 

"  Cornwall 's  my  country,  parish  of  Redruth.  Heard 
you  ever  o'  that  place,  missus  ?  Might  ha'  coom  fro'  theer 
yourself  by  the  look  o'  thee." 

"  I  have  walked  across  the  hill  and  down  to  the  river, 
you  see." 


THE  LIGHT  ON  THE  FARTHER  HILLS    367 

"  Ho  !  but  you  're  a  wumman." 

"  I  can  make  a  woman  of  you,  so  far  as  they  can  see. 
Take  off  your  coat."  She  helped  him  with  the  sleeves ;  he 
flushed  and  grunted  as  the  swollen  muscles  of  his  neck 
felt  the  strain. 

"  Now,  what  be  goin'  to  do,  eh  ?  " 

Charlotte  had  taken  off  her  own  cloak  and  laid  it  about 
his  shoulders.  "  Sit  up  a  little  and  let  me  fix  it.  It  will 
not  hook  over  the  bandage.  Now  you  shall  be  me,  the 
woman  in  a  blue  cloak  and  kerchief.  Shall  I  lighten  the 
pail  ?  You  can  carry  only  one ;  you  must  hold  your  cloak 
together." 

"What!  a  handkycher  round  me  face  like  a  maid? 
B'  ain't  I  a  rosebud,  eh  ?  Wisht  I  'd  'ad  a  shave  this 
marnin' !  Gi'  's  a  kiss,  then,  now  I  be  a  wumman  same  as 
thee." 

"  No,  you  don't  need  that.  But  I  hope  you  '11  get 
through." 

"What  about  thyself?" 

"  After  a  while  I  shall  come  ;  not  now.  They  must  see 
only  one.  I  can  go  back  at  any  time.  You  see,  I  still  look 
like  a  woman." 

"  That  ye  do,  an'  a  fine  one !  Happy 's  the  man  that 
owns  thee.  So,  I  don't  get  the  kiss,  pretty  as  I  be  ?  " 

"  Make  haste,  now,  while  your  strength  lasts."  She 
helped  him  to  rise  and  kneeling  drew  his  arm  over  her 
shoulder,  supporting  him  as  he  swayed  dizzily.  "  It  will 
pass,"  she  said.  "  Perhaps  I  'd  better  lighten  the  pail  ?  " 

"  Yes,  better,"  came  the  answer  faintly. 

"  But  you  must  lean  a  little  —  do  you  hear  me  ?  and 
stick  out  one  arm  as  if  the  pail  were  heavy." 


368  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

"  Oh,  I  can  lean  !  I  can  lean  clear  over  if  I  must !  Don't 
—  think  it  '11  be  a  go." 

"  It  surely  won't  be  if  you  give  up  before  you  try. 
Come,  I  will  kiss  you !  " 

He  stooped  toward  her,  his  eyes  closing,  and  she  slapped 
him  in  the  face.  It  hurt  her  to  do  it  and  it  hurt  his 
wound.  But  he  straightened  up  in  a  fury,  his  color  rush 
ing  back. 

"  Poor  boy  !  A  cruel  kiss,  but  go  while  it  lasts." 

She  supported  him.  He  shook  her  off  and  started. 

A  long  time  she  waited,  watching  his  progress,  and 
doubtless  it  seemed  longer  to  him ;  but  he  reached  the 
house.  The  blue  spot  vanished.  So ;  he  was  safe.  And 
what  would  he  do  with  his  life  ?  not  much,  perhaps,  but  he 
loved  it.  Others  there  might  be  who  loved  it,  too. 

Rain  began  to  patter  down  on  the  hard  little  leaves  of 
the  huckleberry-bushes.  She  put  on  her  soldier's  coat  and 
buttoned  it  tight  and  warm.  A  little  way  off  on  the  bloody 
grass  where  he  fell  was  the  bearskin  he  had  worn.  Mon 
strous  headgear  for  a  man  to  march  and  fight  under, 
through  the  heat  of  an  American  summer.  How  cruel  were 
the  Lords  of  War  to  the  cheap  varieties  of  human  flesh 
that  served  their  purpose  ! 

She  moved  down  the  hill  to  examine  for  the  first  time 
close  this  famous  headpiece.  She  tried  it  on.  It  covered 
her  eyebrows.  However,  one  had  only  to  arrange  one's 
hair  a  little  different  and  tighten  the  chin-chain,  and  it 
stays;  now  she  could  see  out  beneath  the  strange,  hot, 
heavy  thing. 

The  rain  fell  faster,  shutting  shore  from  shore.  She 
seated  herself  and  waited. 


THE  LIGHT  ON  THE  FARTHER  HILLS     369 

"  I  thank  thee,  God,  for  these  last  few  days,"  she  whis 
pered  meekly,  as  though  drawing  near  to  rest.  All  the 
storm  and  hate  and  passion  were  gone  out  of  her  soul. 

Suddenly  the  sun  shone  forth  as  he  sank  below  a  cloud- 
curtain  lifting  in  the  west.  A  glory  filled  the  landscape. 
All  the  eastern  hills  stood  with  their  fixed  summits  crowned 
in  light.  Shadows  shrank,  and  a  world  of  color  and  glitter 
sprang  to  life  from  tree  and  wold  and  river ;  and  where, 
an  hour  before,  the  rain-draped  shore  had  faded  opposite, 
back  it  came,  a  near  neighbor  with  a  face  of  smiles. 

Turning  toward  that  momentary  burst  of  glory  and 
stepping  higher,  a  little  higher,  Charlotte  left  her  shelter. 
Now  the  bushes  hid  her  only  to  the  knees :  her  head  rose 
clear  against  the  cold  blue  northern  hills. 

All  the  light  of  those  concentrated  beams  enkindled  in 
the  west,  struck  back  upon  her  head  and  face  in  strong 
revealment :  a  woman's  face,  a  woman's  pallor,  and  a  wo 
man's  smile  when  her  soul  goes  out  in  banishment  of  self. 

But  all  that  could  be  seen  across  the  river  behind  those 
deadly  trenches  was  the  spot  a  red  coat  makes,  and  the 
unmistakable  hat  of  a  grenadier. 

"  There  's  a  fellow  now !  Can  you  get  him  ?  " 

A  young  farmer  rose  on  one  elbow  to  reload.  The  other 
hitched  his  piece  to  his  shoulder. 

"  Got  him." 


CHAPTER  XLII 

BATTY  con  Id  not  go  to  sleep  that  night  without  his 
mother.  His  sobs  and  cries  disturbed  the  wounded.  Little 
Frederika  awoke  on  her  side  of  the  partition,  and  cried 
her  best  for  sympathy.  Finally  Madame  de  Riedesel's 
voice  was  heard  at  the  door :  "  Can  anything  be  done  to 
stop  that  baby?" 

"  A  good  spank  is  what  'e  need,"  said  a  soldier's  wife, 
conscious  of  a  will  to  administer  it. 

"  Try  one  o'  the  mother's  songs  on  him,"  said  another. 

Batty  listened,  long  enough  to  be  quite  sure  the  voice 
in  the  dark  singing,  — 

"  O  never  despise  the  soldier  lad 
Though  his  station  be  but  low  — o  !  " 

was  not  his  mother's,  and  broke  into  fresh  howls. 

"Where  is  his  mother?"  asked  madame.  The  soldier 
who  came  back  in  Charlotte's  blue  cloak  began  his  story 
over  again. 

"  Please  don't !  "  said  Catherine.  "  Wait  till  to-morrow. 
The  boy  understands  that  we  are  talking  about  her." 

Next  day  it  was  a  common  soldier's  wife  who  brought 
water  up  the  hill  and  went  and  came,  —  courage  being  of 
one  woman  no  more  than  one  man,  in  a  world  given  to  un 
expected  incidents  of  this  sort.  Madame  de  Riedesel,  whose 
diary  chiefly  relates  to  the  army  and  persons  in  it  or  con 
nected  with  it,  celebrates  this  woman's  devotion;  which 
went  on  for  many  days  and  was  rewarded  with  a  hatful 
of  money. 


THE  LIGHT  ON  THE  FARTHER  HILLS    371 

Of  Charlotte's  one  trip,  and  the  one  when  she  did  not 
return,  madame  says  nothing :  perhaps  she  never  knew ; 
it  was  chiefly  spoken  of  in  the  middle  cellar.  But  Charlotte 
had  her  reward. 

The  soldier's  wife  brought  word  that  a  female  spy,  a 
woman  young  and  of  great  beauty,  had  been  found  and 
buried  among  the  British  dead,  dressed  in  the  coat  and  hat 
of  a  grenadier ;  shot  by  her  own  side  probably  before  she 
had  completed  the  work  of  her  disguise.  Thus  the  tale 
which  the  young  Cornishman  could  only  tell  in  part  was 
finished,  for  those  who  held  the  clew. 

With  shamefaced  sympathy,  he  gave  back  the  cloak 
and  kerchief,  blaming  his  own  "  carcass  "  they  had  cov 
ered.  Catherine  took  them  reverently,  and  assured  him 
that  he  had  nothing  with  which  to  reproach  himself. 

"  Had  you  not  accepted,  you  would  have  taken  from  her 
a  joy  she  richly  deserved." 

What  was  meant  precisely  by  these  words  the  soldier 
found  himself  unable  to  see ;  neither  did  it  matter. 

It  was  Catherine's  humble  belief  that  now  she  would  be 
nearer  her  sister  than  ever  she  had  been  while  the  veil  of 
mortality  lay  between  them.  It  was  waiting,  she  knew, 
that  peace  which  unites  us  finally  to  those  with  whom  we 
have  come  into  the  last,  most  perfect  understanding,  where 
no  word  can  pass  to  hinder  or  estrange. 

But  there  were  days  of  unnatural  strain  between  this  time 
and  that :  the  excitement  of  the  war-drama  rushing  on  out 
side;  the  tax  upon  nerves  unused  to  witnessing  so  much 
raw  physical  suffering ;  the  anxiety  for  her  father,  like  a 
deep  under-pain.  Catherine  thought  of  him  and  of  Bassy 
together  (and  with  the  same  pain)  as  she  had  seen  them  last, 


372  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

her  father's  hand  on  Bassy's  shoulder,  helping  him  with  his 
orders  as  a  man  respects  another's  duty  who  has  tried  to 
do  his  own. 

Following  those  six  days  in  the  cellar  came  the  scenes  of 
the  surrender,  still  spoken  of  by  British  historians  as  the 
"  convention  "  of  Saratoga. 

But  the  honorable  terms  General  Gates  had  granted 
Burgoyne  and  Washington  had  approved,  our  Congress  of 
that  day  saw  fit  to  revoke  on  some  quibble  that  put  the 
army  and  the  country  to  shame. 

The  "convention  troops  "  thought  they  were  bound  for 
England  within  a  few  weeks  at  the  outside.  But  eight  years 
of  exile  were  to  pass  with  Madame  de  Riedesel  and  her 
husband  before  she  was  to  see  him  ride  into  the  great 
square  of  his  own  city  amid  the  sobs  and  cheers  of  those 
who  welcomed  back  the  sad  little  remnant  of  his  army. 

We  leave  the  prisoners  of  war  and  the  protectioners  at 
Albany,  where  doors  were  opened  gladly  to  friends  and  gen 
erously  to  vanquished  enemies.  But  Catherine  went  alone  to 
the  house  on  North  Pearl  Street,  where  "  Aunt  Schuyler  " 
was  expecting  her. 


CHAPTER  XLIII 

THE  autumn  twilights  were  lengthening.  Catherine  no 
longer  took  her  walk  in  the  garden  after  supper,  before  time 
for  putting  Batty-boy  to  bed.  Candles  would  now  be  lighted, 
and  Madam's  knitting  brought  forth,  a  signal  that  she  was 
ready  for  the  evening's  reading. 

To-night,  however,  Catherine  had  no  little  boy  to  hear 
his  prayers ;  it  was  Batty's  father  who  carried  him  up  to 
bed,  followed  by  Amanda,  the  same  giddy,  black  mocker, 
sobered  now,  who  once  was  Charlotte's  peculiar  detestation. 

Captain  Dunbar  was  up  on  leave  from  his  regiment's 
station  on  the  Hudson.  He  had  come  to  bid  his  child  good- 
by;  for  Catherine  was  leaving  Madam  Schuyler's  house 
in  the  morning  to  join  her  father  in  Canada,  and  Batty-boy 
was  going  with  "  Aunt  Catherine."  She  had  coveted  this 
trust,  claiming  it,  indeed;  and  Captain  Dunbar  took  his 
great  relief  and  joy  in  it  soberly,  as  one  might  say,  in  the 
fear  of  God.  He  rested  his  few  acknowledgments  to  Cath 
erine  on  commonplace  grounds :  until  the  war  was  ended 
he,  a  man  without  family  connections,  could  not  give  his 
child  a  home. 

This  had  been  talked  over  in  Madam  Schuyler's  presence, 
though  she  took  no  heed  of  their  conversation.  She  had 
fallen  into  a  musing  habit;  much  that  was  said  she  ap 
peared  willing  to  lose.  Her  eyes  were  seldom  raised  now 
in  one  of  those  strong,  penetrating  looks  through  which 
her  powers  of  apprehension  and  of  will  had  been  wont 
to  impress  themselves. 


374  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

These  signs  of  age  in  her  beloved  friend  fell  upon  Cath 
erine  heavily  at  parting.  She  was  facing  this,  and  other 
partings,  alone  for  a  few  moments  in  the  garden.  The  win 
dows  of  the  dining-room  were  still  dark,  but  for  an  occa 
sional  flash  of  firelight. 

From  the  bedroom  window  where  he  sat  with  his  little 
boy  on  his  knee,  Bassy  could  watch  Catherine  walking  to 
and  fro.  He  looked  once,  and  then  shut  out  the  vision.  This 
hour  belonged  to  the  past,  the  years  of  that  dull,  remorseful 
sickness  he  had  carried  in  his  breast ;  —  and  here  was  his 
little  son. 

As  he  came  down  into  the  hall,  he  was  still  divided. 
The  effect  of  his  love  for  Catherine  in  the  strange  tumult 
of  this  parting  caused  him  to  watch  himself  in  every  side- 
relation,  lest  by  some  word  or  slip  he  mar,  for  all  the  time 
to  come,  her  last  impressions  of  him.  She  would  refuse  to 
acknowledge  that  they  were  on  a  different  footing,  yet  in 
the  short  hour  left  he  must  claim  the  right  so  long  denied 
him,  however  little  it  might  mean  to  her,  —  the  man's  right 
to  assert  his  truth  to  the  first,  constant,  and  highest  demand 
of  his  whole  being.  His  sense  of  the  difficulty  of  what  he 
had  to  say  by  far  outweighed  his  hopes  as  to  her  way  of 
taking  it.  He  was  not  conscious  of  any  expectation  beyond 
that  she  would  hear  him  and  remember  what  he  had  said, 
till  time  gave  him  his  chance  to  repeat  it.  "  But  what  we 
call  our  despair  is  often  only  the  painful  eagerness  of  unfed 
hope." 

Yet  after  all  he  did  not  go  into  the  garden.  An  old 
negro  servant  crossed  the  hall,  with  candles  in  a  branched 
candlestick  illuminating  his  white  woolly  poll.  He  held 
the  door  open  for  Bassy. 


THE  LIGHT  ON  THE  FARTHER  HILLS     375 

Mechanically  he  went  in.  Madam  sat  in  the  dining- 
room,  alone.  She  had  conquered  much  of  her  feeling  for 
class,  through  her  Christianity  and  common  sense,  but  she 
could  not  forget  —  and  showed  it  —  that  Captain  Dunbar, 
in  spite  of  his  new  epaulets  (Continental  uniforms  counted 
for  little  in  her  eyes),  had  been  a  young  man  "  raised"  as 
it  were  on  her  nephew's  estate,  admitted  to  his  office,  his 
library  perhaps,  but  not  to  his  table.  She  had  heard  that 
he  was  or  had  been  one  of  the  notorious  "  Green  Mountain 
Boys."  This  Catherine  refuted  with  all  the  particulars, 
which  Madam  found  confusing,  not  convincing. 

But  when  this  unexplainable  person  began  to  talk  of 
General  Philip  Schuyler,  the  strong  color  coming  into  his 
face  with  the  thrill  of  his  indignant  pride,  she  looked  at 
him  suddenly  and  keenly  and  long.  She  shut  her  lips. 
Her  dark  eyes  glistened.  The  knitting  trembled  in  her 
hands  that  could  not  find  the  stitches. 

General  Gates  had  been  put  over  her  nephew's  head  in 
the  hour  that  should  have  been  his  own.  That  she  had 
heard.  How  his  humiliation  had  been  worked  for  and  ac 
complished —  that  also  she  knew.  What  she  waited  to  hear 
was  how  her  Philip  had  taken  it.  Had  he  kept  "  his  fine 
unruffled  soul  "  ? 

To  Madam  his  aunt,  Philip  Schuyler,  the  man  of  great 
ideals,  the  friend  of  Washington,  the  high-minded  patriot 
and  lover  of  his  country,  was  still  her  boy :  asking  advice 
what  profession  he  should  follow,  marrying  too  soon  and 
not  repenting !  A  gay,  debonair,  laughter-loving  lad.  Ah ! 
how  the  house  missed  all  that  bygone  laughter !  Not  this 
house,  but  the  one  she  should  never  see  again. 

Peter,  third  of  the  name  and  her  husband's  heir,  was 


376  THE   KOYAL  AMERICANS 

dead  long  ago,  with  Gertrude,  his  beautiful  young  wife ; 
their  little  Peter  4th  had  taken  the  "wrong  side."  Cortland 
was  dead,  and  Philip,  her  own  favorite  of  all  her  husband's 
nephews,  had  confounded  all  her  hopes  in  him,  and  behold 
his  reward !  She  knew  how  he  was  entertaining  Burgoyne, 
who  burned  his  country  house — that  was  a  matter  of 
course ;  but  how  had  her  Philip  borne  himself  to  General 
Gates? 

The  language  of  this  young  Continental  officer  was  really 
extraordinary,  considering.  Madam  gave  him  her  deepest 
attention.  One  might  have  supposed  him  to  be  a  personal 
friend  of  General  Schuyler's,  instructed  through  the  finest 
sympathy  in  his  motives  and  trials  in  the  unhappy  service 
he  had  chosen. 

Catherine  meanwhile  had  entered  quietly;  she  took  a 
low  seat  near  Madam's  chair.  Her  presence  altered  the 
current  of  the  old  lady's  thoughts.  Presently,  in  her  deep, 
husky  voice  she  observed :  — 

"  How  can  they  drive  Colonel  Yelverton  into  exile  when 
they  have  no  proof  of  any  charge  against  him?" 

"  He  is  not  driven,  dear  aunt.  He  goes  himself.  All 
his  friends  are  gone,"  said  Catherine,  smoothing  mat 
ters. 

"  I  understood  there  were  conditions  attached  to  his  re 
lease  that  would  be  wounding  to  any  gentleman's  dignity, 
if  he  remained." 

"  Not  of  necessity,  I  think,"  said  Captain  Dunbar. 
"  There  can  be  nothing  binding  in  restrictions  you  have 
no  desire  to  exceed." 

*'  I  cannot  understand  why  he  still  is  under  surveillance : 
I  suppose  that  is  what  such  conditions  mean  ?  Did  not  my 


THE  LIGHT  ON  THE  FARTHER  HILLS    377 

godchild  testify  to  his  absolute  ignorance  of  her  unhappy 
attempt?" 

"  She  gave  it  under  oath,  Madam.  She  refused  the  im 
munity  offered  her  at  her  benefactor's  expense." 

"  My  good  Charlotte  would  have  done  that.  She  was  a 
child,  but  she  had  a  noble  heart.  I  always  said  justice 
was  never  done  that  poor  girl." 

In  the  deep  silence  Catherine  covered  her  face.  Bassy's 
eyes  were  on  the  fire ;  his  expression  was  unreadable. 

"  And  what  will  be  done  about  the  colonel's  property  ? 
Is  that  to  be  safe?" 

"  It  will  be  sequestered  and  sold  at  public  auction,"  said 
Captain  Dunbar. 

"  On  what  grounds,  pray,  if  the  charge  was  not  sus 
tained?" 

"  On  the  grounds  that  he  is  a  Tory  absentee,  and  that 
money  is  needed  to  feed  hungry  men  in  the  American 
army." 

"  It  is  an  infamous  act,  whoever  may  be  responsible !  " 

"It  is  an  act  of  war,  madam." 

"  Then  thy  father  will  lose  everything !  He  will  have 
nothing  to  come  back  to.  I  shall  never  see  you,  either  of 
you,  again,  if  General  Washington's  armies  win  the  day." 

Catherine  moved  closer  and  laid  her  hand  on  Madam's 
lap,  who  stroked  it  tremulously.  Her  voice  was  thick  and 
broken.  "  Two  more  gone !  There  is  nothing  left  but  part 
ings.  Would  I  might  go  myself ! 

"  Captain  Dunbar,  do  you  honor  us  with  your  company 
to-morrow?  I  have  had  you  a  bed  prepared." 

"  I  thank  you,  madam.  I  sleep  at  General  Schuyler's. 
I  must  very  presently  take  leave,  with  thanks  for  your 


378  THE  ROYAL  AMERICANS 

hospitality  and  your  kindness  to  my  little  boy.  He  is 
greatly  improved  since  you  took  him  under  your  roof." 

Madam  looked  at  him,  startled.  To  her,  it  was  Char 
lotte's  child  she  had  sheltered.  Who  could  this  be  ? 

"  I  am  bewildered,"  she  said.  "  I  did  not  remember. 
Catherine,  dear,  is  this  —  Charlotte's  husband  ?  "  she  whis 
pered. 

"  Yes,  dear  aunt.". 

'*  Forgive  me,  sir,  forgive  me !  An  old  woman's  forge  t- 
fulness.  I  have  not  understood  to  whom  I  was  speaking. 
I  should  have  written  to  you,  but  —  I  am  much  bewil. 
dered  !  " 

As  she  rose,  awaiting  help,  Catherine  placed  herself  at 
one  side  and  Bassy  took  the  other,  offering  his  arm. 

Madam  stepped  back  and  looked  at  him  strangely. 

"  I  did  not  think  I  should  ever  bring  myself  to  rest 
upon  an  arm  that  has  given  its  strength  to  this  unholy 
rebellion." 

"  Unless  it  were  the  arm  of  one  of  your  brave  nephews 
engaged  in  it,  aunt,"  said  Catherine. 

"  I  am  sorry  my  sword-arm  offends  you,  madam.  If 
Catherine  will  change  sides,  and  you  give  me  leave,  I  can 
offer  you  with  my  duty  the  one  that  is  nearest  the  heart." 

If  Madam  Schuyler  perceived  these  young  persons 
were  bent  on  humoring  her,  the  knowledge  did  not  hurt. 
It  was  pleasant  to  hear  young  male  tones  in  her  house 
once  more.  Gallant  speeches  did  not  offend  her,  and  if 
Bassy's  unpracticed  effort  did  homage  to  her  present  help 
lessness  rather  than  to  the  grandeur  of  her  past,  that  was 
his  way  of  regarding  it. 

He  and  Catherine  exchanged  silent  looks  over  the  aged 


THE  LIGHT  ON  THE  FARTHER  HILLS    379 

head  between  them,  in  its  marvelous  flutings  and  wrap 
pings  of  gauze,  —  the  head  that  had  done  so  much  weari 
some  thinking  for  others  and  now  must  go  bent  to  the 
grave  under  the  weight  of  the  storm. 

Bassy,  in  his  plain  regimentals  of  the  poorest  paid 
army  in  the  world,  looked  to  Catherine  somehow  a  nobler 
than  the  noblest  Schuyler  of  them  all ;  and  they  were  all 
watching  him  from  the  portraits  above  the  wainscot,  those 
keen,  world-wise  faces  in  flowing  wigs  and  steenkirks, 
some  with  the  merchant's  globe  and  inkstand,  some  in 
breastplates  with  hand  on  sword.  What  they  would  have 
done  with  their  pens  and  swords  in  a  crisis  like  the  present, 
let  the  history  of  their  ancestors  in  the  sixteenth  century 
bear  witness. 

They  smiled  discreetly  on  the  tall,  deep-browed  young 
Continental.  "  The  Republic  of  the  United  States,"  one 
of  our  foremost  writers  has  said,  "  is  far  more  the  child 
of  the  Dutch  Republic  than  of  England." 

"  Give  me  your  arm,  sir.  Catherine  need  not  *  change 
sides.'  It  is  true  I  do  not  like  the  color  of  your  coat,  but 
who  am  I  to  dispute  about  colors !  " 

The  old  Madam's  eyes  grew  filmy.  "My  loved  ones 
will  leave  me,  whether  in  the  scarlet  or  the  blue.  It  will 
make  no  difference  in  their  graves.  You  will  excuse  my 
withdrawing  so  early,  Captain  Dunbar ;  and  pardon,  sir, 
any  words  of  mine  spoken  in  ignorance  of  your  great 
trial !  The  aged  cannot  keep  pace  with  the  lives  of  the 
young.  We  stand  still  while  the  world  spins  away  from 
us.  Good-night,  Catherine.  Come  to  me,  dear,  before  you 
sleep.  I  wish  you  both  good-night,"  she  repeated.  A  ser 
vant  met  her  and  closed  the  door. 


380  THE   ROYAL  AMERICANS 

The  younger  ones  reseated  themselves  with  a  sense  of 
difficulty  and  yet  of  relief.  Their  difficulties  were  at  least 
their  own.  They  felt  the  moments  going  while  both  clung 
to  the  sense  of  rest  in  each  other's  presence  so  long 
denied. 

Catherine  sprang  up,  her  face  full  of  color,  saying  in 
her  old,  impetuous  way,  —  leaving  all  to  the  understand 
ing  of  her  company, — 

"  It  has  never  been  4  you '  in  this  war.  You  ought  to 
know  that,  Bassy !  Never  with  me.  4  Us,'  always  « us ' ;  but 
I  told  you  I  was  dumb.  In  Canada  I  shall  pray  for  our 
country,  with  your  little  boy  at  my  knees :  for  his  father 
and  his  father's  sword.  Fight  hard,  my  brother !  " 

It  struck  Catherine  that  her  confession  of  a  daughter's 
apostasy  was  received  with  singular  coldness.  She  was 
disappointed  in  the  effect  of  her  words. 

"  If  you  pray  for  me,  Catherine,  you  may  leave  out  the 

*  brother,' "  said  Bassy.  She  had  given  him  his  opening. 

"  Does  it  mean  so  little  to  you  ?  We  are  not  rich  in 
brothers  and  sisters  —  " 

"  It  means  to  me  more  than  I  am  able  to  bear  any 
longer,  and  not  anything  I  want.  I  do  not  ask  how  far 
you  can  go  ;  but  if  you  think  of  me  at  all,  I  wish  your 
thoughts  might  begin,  now,  to  take  the  right  direction." 

"  If  I  think  of  you  at  all !  " 

"  I  can   go  no  farther  on   the  road  of   '  brother  '  — 

*  friend '  —  anything  of  that  sort.  To  be  honest  with  you, 
at  last,  is  too  great  a  good  to  play  with.  Let  me  keep 
that,  if  I  am  to  have  nothing  more.  Tell  me  that  from 
this  forth  you  will  try  to  think  of  me  a  little  as  I  am 
forced  to  think  of  you,  or  shut  you  out  of  my  mind  again. 


THE  LIGHT  ON  THE  FARTHER  HILLS     381 

—  Forgive  me,"  he  continued,  as  she  would  not  speak  ; 
"  I  am  leaving  in  an  hour.  Forgive  my  hammering  at 
your  door.  I  ask  for  my  life." 

"  If  it  could  do  any  good,"  she  said.  "  It  will  only 
bring  more  sorrow." 

"  Sorrow  !  "  he  groaned.  "  I  wish  I  might  know  sor 
row.  Those  who  have  sorrows  have  had  joys.  Unhappiness 
is  nothing.  Have  you  had  much  to  boast  of  in  the  way  of 
happiness  since  you  were  a  child,  Catherine  ?  " 

"  Mine  stopped  while  I  was  a  child,"  said  she.  "  In 
England  I  knew  not  the  word.  Sometimes,  with  papa,  — 
great  gladness,  but  mostly  a  steady  nipping,  pruning  down. 
The  summer  I  came  home,  —  oh,  what  a  summer !  "  She 
drew  a  deep  breath.  "  That  was  the  reaction,  I  suppose. 
I  should  hate  to  think  I  could  go  out  of  my  senses  with 
no  excuse  at  all.  But  happy  I  was  not ;  I  was  not  sure  —  " 

Bassy's  eyes  did  not  leave  her  face.  She  softened  and 
trembled  under  his  long,  mute  question.  At  last  it  found 
words. 

"  Catherine  —  by  chance,  have  you  ever  heard  the  true 
story  of  my  marriage  ?  " 

"  All  of  it,"  she  cried. 

"  Thank  God !  Then  I  need  never  try  to  tell  it.  Thank 
God ! " 

"  I  only  knew  it  too  late  —  after  wronging  you  in  my 
thoughts  for  years.  I  treated  you  like  a  boy  who  has  sold 
himself  out  of  his  manhood." 

"  That  does  not  matter.  Are  your  thoughts  of  me  clear 
in  that  direction,  now  ?  " 

"  Absolutely." 

"  I  still  have  your  respect  ?  " 


382  THE  ROYAL   AMERICANS 

"  There  could  be  no  one  I  respect  more." 

"  Then,  with  me,  you  could  feel  as  it  were  '  sure '  ?  Hap 
piness,  you  know,  is  the  last  thing !  It  might  come,  on  a 
good  foundation,  dug  out  of  a  man's  mistakes  —  paid  for, 
I  hope.  Some  things  are  possible  but  not  all,  when  the 
start  is  false." 

"  Dear  Bassy !  —  I  stand  outside  —  with  my  own  mis 
takes.  If  you  come  to  me  for  anything,  ask  for  the  crown 
I  told  you  belonged  to  you,  years  ago." 

She  had  touched  a  nerve  of  passionate  remembrance. 
It  thrilled  in  her  sight. 

"  The  truth,  that  day,  would  have  been  more  to  me  than 
many  crowns." 

"  I  know  it,  I  knew  it  then,  but  I  was  tied.  And  learn 
ing  to  my  shame  what  trouble  comes  of  a  girl's  keeping 
the  secret  of  her  love  for  the  sake  of  the  man  who  has 
won  it.  If  he  has  n't  the  grace  to  be  proud  of  it  —  but  I 
told  you  I  was  not  sure." 

"  Were  you  sure  of  yourself,  Catherine  ?  " 

Truth  is  the  strength  of  love.  Bassy's  eyes  were  fixed 
on  her  in  a  quiet  agony  of  attention.  She  bore  on. 

"  I  was  sure  I  loved  Francis  Havergal  —  as  sure  as  I 
am  that  I  am  cured  of  that  love.  It  was  his  fault,  not  mine, 
that  I  am  not  his  wife  to-day.  Whether  I  should  be  happy, 
you  who  know  me  can  judge !  It  was  your  way  of  doing 
things  or  letting  them  alone  that  taught  me  what  a  woman 
needs  in  the  man  whom  she  goes  to  every  day  for  one 
thing  or  another.  My  daddy,  —  you  know  how  I  feel  about 
the  colonel,  —  he  'd  always  do  the  best  things  in  the  very 
worst  way,  bless  him !  You  were  the  head  and  the  hands 
and  the  will,  at  Yelverton." 


THE  LIGHT  ON  THE  FARTHER  HILLS     383 

Now  she  was  fumbling,  and  the  nerve  began  to  throb 
again.  "Are  you  listening  to  me,  Catherine,  because  of 
my  head  or  my  hands  or  my  —  " 

"  O  Bassy,  Bassy  !  Why  won't  you  let  me  spare  you  ? 
The  other  way  will  only  wear  you  out !  " 

44  Let  me  be  the  judge  of  that.  If  you  would  but  give 
me  a  moment's  rest  —  a  word  to  do  my  waiting  on  ?  The 
war  will  not  end  this  year  nor  next ;  but  when  I  come 
for  Batty,  I  shall  come  for  you." 

"I  can  never  leave  my  father  while  he  lives." 

44  God  grant  he  may  live  long !  But  not  in  Canada. 
Colonel  Yelverton  will  not  be  happy  in  Canada." 

44  No,  he  will  not  be  happy.  You  know  whom  we  shall 
be  thrown  with  if  we  go  into  society  at  all.  Honors  there 
are  for  those  who  break  their  word  of  honor :  my  father 
will  hardly  seek  a  commission  in  the  Royal  Greens! 
These  times  are  not  our  times,  neither  in  England  nor  in 
Canada.  But  while  we  are  two,  we  shall  stay  together." 

44 1  wish  I  could  make  you  think  a  little  better  of  us  in 
the  Grants.  Good  men's  memories  grow  sweet  in  absence. 
Your  father  will  have  friends  there,  when  he  is  gone." 

44  The  Grants  will  never  understand  my  father ;  mainly 
because  he  's  determined  they  shall  not." 

44  Those  men  are  not  befooled.  There  is  a  method  in 
their  bitterness  now.  Certain  acts  they  are  forced  to  per 
form  ;  and  friction  between  a  man's  nature  and  his  duty  is 
apt  to  heat  up  his  way  of  doing  it." 

44 1  admit  all  that.  The  fact  remains  they  have  left  him 
nothing  to  come  home  to." 

44  He  will  have  Yelverton,  if  he  be  not  too  proud  to  take 
back  his  own." 


384  THE   ROYAL   AMERICANS 

"  What  did  I  hear  you  say  to  Madam  Sehuyler  ?  " 

"  I  shall  own  Yelverton  —  you  shall  own  Yelverton. 
This  could  not  be  said  before  Madam.  Your  cousin  buys 
my  Wallkill  land  —  which  he  does  not  want  —  for  a  price 
I  never  asked ;  he  craves  a  hand  in  the  matter.  Yelver 
ton  will  go  very  cheap  for  ready  money.  Do  you  grasp 
this,  Catherine?" 

Catherine's  eyes  shot  laughter  through  their  tears.  "  Is 
it  your  American  idea  to  buy  me,  Bassy  — 4  cheap  '  ?  " 

"  I  shall  not  get  thee  cheap,  my  wife."  (How  did 
Catherine  know  he  had  never  used  that  word  before!) 
"  Lord  knows  what  the  price  has  been.  Has  been  —  may 
I  say  it?" 

"  Oh,  say  anything  —  if  you  really  want  to  spend  your 
life  in  waiting !  Now  I  think  you  must  go.  /  must  go  to 
Madam.  Give  my  love  to  Madame  de  Riedesel  and  to  all 
the  Schuylers.  Did  I  tell  you  the  general  was  the  first 
to  recognize  me  when  we  crawled  out  of  that  cellar  into 
the  —  our  lines  ?  The  tender  courtesy  of  that  man !  Says 
Madame  de  Riedesel  —  but  that  shall  wait,  with  all  the 
other  things  we  have  to  talk  over  together.  —  Come,  you 
must  go." 

She  rose,  flushed  and  trembling,  a  great  pressure  at  her 
heart.  Bassy  rose  and  stood  tall  above  her,  looking  down 
into  her  eyes.  His  soul  clung  to  them,  swooning  in  their 
light. 

"  Let  me  have  you,  once,  beloved  —  one  last  moment 
—  the  first!" 

She  gave  him  his  moment,  a  long  one.  Death  was  wait 
ing,  years  were  tolling  off  the  chances  of  their  ever  meet 
ing  again. 


THE  LIGHT  ON  THE  FARTHER  HILLS    385 

He  kissed  her  and  looked  into  her  face  thinking  "  If  I 
die  it  will  come  between  me  and  the  last  agony ;  if  I  live 
it  shall  teach  me  this  is  not  the  whole." 

They  lived  to  see  their  heavenly  bow  touch  earth  at  the 
other  end,  with  all  the  glory  of  its  brightening,  its  climb 
ing,  its  fading  in  rain  and  mist,  between.  Bassy  brought 
them  home  —  all  three.  Catherine  rewarded  him  for  the 
good  fight  he  fought  alone,  and  for  his  share  in  the  coun 
try's  battles,  and  kept  him  up  to  his  minor  duties  through 
a  long  and  honored  life. 

She  loved  Charlotte's  boy  better  than  she  had  loved 
his  mother  till  too  late.  He  gave  her  more  anxiety  than 
her  own  children  all  put  together ;  but  she  never  was  heard 
to  complain,  more  than  saying  once  that  life  would  be  too 
easy  if  one  had  only  one's  own  to  bring  up.  In  her  heart 
she  did  not  boast  of  it ;  she  considered  it  her  share  in  what 
she  called  the  atonement :  so  we  feel  toward  those  who 
have  got  no  more  out  of  life  for  themselves  than  a  chance 
to  part  with  it  nobly. 

She  comforted  her  old  Tory  father  and  laughed  at  his 
prejudices,  which  he  encouraged  in  himself  as  he  did  his 
appetite  for  things  that  no  longer  agreed  with  him.  He 
was  not  greatly  to  be  pitied.  Though  he  would  never  take 
back  Yelverton  for  his  own,  he  lived  out  his  life  there 
and  lorded  it  affectionately  over  all,  beloved  by  all.  The 
Americans  continued  to  irritate  him,  but  an  Englishman, 
when  he  is  thoroughly  happy,  is  the  better  for  being  irri 
tated  somewhat ;  it  keeps  his  liver  down.  He  enjoyed  his 
children's  increasing  wealth  and  consequence  in  propor 
tion  as  he  boasted  himself  ruined  by  the  war. 


386  THE   KOYAL  AMERICANS 

The  good  dominie  passed  to  his  reward  and  made 
Catherine  his  heir.  Aunt  Gentrey  passed  to  her  reward 
and  did  likewise.  Francis,  on  her  marriage,  sent  Cath 
erine  a  deed  of  the  Genesee  valley  lands,  which  she  was 
unable  to  refuse,  knowing  it  to  be  his  proud  requital  for 
Bassy's  deed  to  his  mother.  Francis  could  well  afford 
thus  to  square  the  account. 

The  colonel  thought  well  of  Francis's  pride  and  very 
well  of  his  Genesee  lands.  None  but  Catherine  could  trace 
the  sad  irony  conveyed  by  that  signature  which  laid  them 
mutely  at  her  feet.  Thus  the  name  that  made  her  heart 
beat,  once,  was  locked  away  among  testaments  and  records 
of  the  dead. 

The  great  and  bloody  breach  between  England  and  her 
late  colonies  did  not  of  course  begin  to  heal  in  Colonel 
Yelverton's  time.  He  looked  on  with  interest  though  not 
hopefully  at  American  affairs ;  and  he  called  his  grandsons 
springing  up  about  his  knees  his  little  royal  Americans, 
deriding  —  gently  in  these  relenting  days  —  that  new  po 
litical  dream  of  a  sovereign  people  under  God,  accountable 
to  no  authority  save  its  own.  His  happiest  memories  went 
back  of  the  war  of  separation  to  those  bygone  Eoyal 
Americans  in  red  coats  with  blue  facings,  —  fighting  men 
of  many  breeds  who  were  one  at  the  king's  command ; 
and  the  first  Latin  his  little  Federalists  learned  were  the 
words  of  the  old  regiment's  motto :  Oeler  et  audax. 


CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U   .   S   .  A 


THE  SEVERED  MANTLE 


By  WILLIAM  LINDSEY 


"  A  tale  of  love  and  chivalry  and  knightly  adventure 
.  .  .  a  continuous  delight."  —  Brooklyn  Eagle. 

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ing  tale  of  chivalry,  but  a  careful  and  accurate  study 
of  a  curious  phase  of  social  life  in  Southern  mediaeval 
France."  — Philadelphia  Press. 

"  Full  of  fine  feeling  and  interesting  from  end  to  end. 
It  achieves  just  what  the  author  intended,  and  one 
closes  the  book  feeling  that  one  has  breathed  the  air 
of  mediaeval  chivalry."  —  Chicago  Record- Herald. 


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LEWIS  RAND 


By  MARY  JOHNSTON 


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skill." — Boston  Transcript. 

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people."  — Minneapolis  Journal. 

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THE  STORY  OF  THYRZA 


By  ALICE  BROWN 


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Chicago  Tribune. 

"  Thyrza,  a  creature  combined  of  compelling  imag 
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light  of  genuine  inspiration  than  one  often  finds  in 
American  novels."  —  New  York  Times. 

"  Altogether,  without  Thomas  Hardy's  melodrama, 
the  people  are  reminiscent  of  his  peasants,  with 
strange  passionate  natures  hidden  within  dumb  patient 
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M18911 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


